


Help Me To Believe, Give Me Hope

by missyoubabycakes



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Danny Jones - Freeform, Detective Louis, F/F, F/M, FBI, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, GIVE IT A LISTEN BECAUSE IT'S PERFECT, I look things up on internet and all that but still, I'm gonna say I don't know what I'm doing with this fic, Journalist Harry, M/M, New York, Rosa Diaz - Freeform, Shit, also kristen is a little bit like, also the story happens in, also the title is from the first solo single of my love, amy santiago - Freeform, and, and all that stuff, and also because it's gonna be all over this fic, because louis hasn't come home in weeks, brooklyn 99 - Freeform, don't judge me please, eventually niall and zayn become his best friends too, from, harry misses louis too much and he's in pain, jake peralta - Freeform, kristen and louis are best friends for life, mafia, my original characters are actually pretty much based on, sarah and mitch are harry's best friends, there's some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-06-01 17:25:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 65,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15148160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missyoubabycakes/pseuds/missyoubabycakes
Summary: Harry hasn't heard from Louis in five weeks and he doesn't know how to cope with the emptiness of their apartment. When Louis comes back to let him know he's okay, he's also back with information that leaves Harry with no ground, and then Harry's alone again.The thing is, Harry is willing to turn the world upside down if it means he'll get Louis back home and safe, but what does that mean to his own safety?orLouis is a detective that's been caught up in a mess that he can't get out from on his own and Harry is a smart journalist that will do anything to find out who's screwing their lives up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo! I'm back and ready to make you all cry!
> 
> First, I just wanted to thank you guys for all the love you gave me when I posted my two first stories here, and I hope you love this one as much as you loved the others. Second, I want you to know that when I had this fanfic idea I was listening to a super sad song, which is why this first chapter is so heartbreaking — as will the others be, I'm sorry! — but I promise you everything will work out for them in the end. 
> 
> Please, be patient with my action scenes, I'm still working on it so it might not be perfect! 
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoy Louis' and Harry's journey through this story, they have a lot to fight to be together, but I promise their love is strong enough.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy your reading!

**GHOST OF YOU**

****

Harry should be used to waking up all of a sudden with his heart beating fast and his mind playing tricks on him, making him believe that whatever happened in his dream is real. He should really be used to that by now, yet somehow, he can never keep his eyes from watering or his chest from aching due to how heavy it feels. ****  
** **

He should be used to the nightmares, and he shouldn't look to the other side of the bed looking for someone he won't find, just like he does every morning after waking up with a heavy heart. ****  
** **

Harry doesn't know how to cope with the silence surrounding him and it's been five weeks of _nothing_ . ****  
** **

He doesn't know how he's supposed to wake up with an easy mind and go to work as if nothing's happened, like he's been told to so many times. He doesn't know how he's supposed to get ready for his day and not wonder why the hell he is in this position right now, where he doesn't understand a single thing of what his life has become. ****  
** **

However, actually pretending nothing has happened is easier than trying to cope at all, which is why the only thing he's used to by now is taking a deep breath to calm his heart down and standing up from his bed to take a burning hot shower until he's strong enough to try and forget the nightmare that has haunted him all night long. ****  
** **

It's seven-thirty in the morning when he's got his skin red from the scalding water. After finishing his shower, he has to get dressed for another day of a job he doesn't look forward to going to anymore, not ever since his world has turned upside down, anyway. ****  
** **

As soon as he's wearing the same old outfit, even though it is technically different than the one  from the day before — black suit and a red tie (he dared to change from the dull colors for once) —, he makes his way to the kitchen and tries to eat better than the days before. He even makes an effort of drinking a large glass of orange juice instead of his usual three cups of coffee. ****  
** **

When he's finished eating a whole banana and two pieces of toasts with blueberry jam, he makes his way back to the bathroom and brushes his teeth quickly, trying his best not to look in the mirror just to find those stupid two pictures glued on it that he can't bring himself to get rid of, just like every other picture around the apartment. ****  
** **

He locks the door behind him after grabbing his backpack on the couch in the living room and is quick to find his way on the street, breathing in the busy air of New York mingling with the smell of summer. He quickly walks to the subway station that is, fortunately, so close to his home. ****  
** **

As soon as he's finally inside the tube, he finds an empty seat and makes himself comfortable for the half an hour commute until he has to get off. It's a routine. Lately, he has been thankful for it, as it distracts his mind, but sometimes he can't help but take his phone from his backpack onto his lap and open the message box that he should really just avoid.

 _I'll be home late tonight, baby. Sorry. I'll make it up to you._ It's the last message he's received from someone who's been haunting his dreams. That was five weeks ago, and that was pretty much it, really. ****  
** **

He takes a deep breath with his eyes locked on the screen and he can't help but type _I hate you,_ just like all the other times he has opened the stupid texts. He never sends it, though, and he tries his best to delete the whole conversation and even that damn number, but he can never bring himself to do so as it hurts too much. It makes him sick to the stomach and he just _can't_ do it. ****  
** **

Harry looks away from his phone for a moment to take a look around in the tube, all the unknown faces he sees carrying on with their lives, and he wonders if some of them feel as miserable as he does. It makes him sad to think of such thing. ****  
** **

He looks for the message box labeled with the name _Mitch_ and types a quick _let's get drunk tonight, please_ , tucking his phone back inside his backpack and resting his head against the window. He closes his eyes and sighs deeply, allowing his mind to be blank just for a few seconds until all the images he tries to erase are back again. ****  
** **

It's a routine and a circle. ****  
** **

When the tube finally reaches his destination, he's fast to exit and make his way to the huge building that he once loved to work in. ****  
** **

He remembers when he received a call back saying they would love to have him working for the New York Times newspaper as an Art section writer and how excited he was; he remembers smiling so big it hurt his cheeks. He remembers the blue-eyed man sitting next to him on their couch kissing his lips and walking to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine, saying it was a special night and they should celebrate. Harry remembers feeling so happy he could burst into a million pieces of glittery confetti. ****  
** **

Now, though, as he steps into the building and greets John, the security, and Susan, the receptionist, with a slight nod and tight smile, he can't help but wonder if he will ever feel that happy again. ****  
** **

Since his desk is on the fourth floor, he has to take the elevator. He dreads the moment the doors close, and he's stuck with that same old The Beatles' playlist that ends up stuck in his head for the rest of the day, just as much as he dreads being alone in that small place, feeling too much of _nothing_ and it makes him want to _scream_ . ****  
** **

He sighs in relief when the doors open again, and he's faced with what he would call _chaos_ . It's always like this, people walking around as if they are desperate for something. He sees his boss, Alan Truman, yelling at the new intern, William Green, for something Harry is sure that wasn't even that bad — Mr. Truman tends to overreact from now and then. ****  
** **

Harry makes his way to his table, greeting all of his co-workers with small nods and tight smiles. He's usually brighter than this and greets them all with a genuine smile and even asks them about their day, but not today. Not for weeks, at least. Sometimes he even forgets some of their names, and he has been working with them for three years now (and he's also pretty great with names and dates). ****  
** **

He drops his backpack on the floor under his desk and sits down on his chair with a thump, sighing deeply as he waits for his laptop to start. ****  
** **

"Rough night?" He hears the voice of the one person that has been keeping him sane at work over the past few weeks and smiles slightly, turning his chair around so he can look at his work partner on to his right. ****  
** **

"Morning, Sarah," He greets her, and she raises her brows at him."Where's _our_ interns?" ** **  
** **

She's been sitting on that same spot next to him for two years, and it was probably the greatest thing to happen to him at work. When Mr. Truman fired that incompetent excuse of a human that goes by the name Mason Smith, Sarah Jones started in the position instead, with all her delicate gestures and soft voice and funny puns and Instagram pictures. Harry's job started being much easier. He didn't go home with a headache due to how much Mason talked absolute _shit_ all day long anymore, and instead, he always went home with a new story that Sarah always made sure to tell him about her time in Africa. ****  
** **

Ever since her first day, they have been pretty great friends, and, consequently, since then, she has known Harry too well for his own good. ****  
** **

"Yours called in sick. No intern for you today." She tells him and he sighs, nodding in response. "Are you okay?"

When he ignores her question about his night and greets her politely instead, it's no surprise that she stays silent while looking at him with a knowing expression until he breaks. ****  
** **

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He blinks at her questioningly and turns back around to his laptop to avoid her gaze. ****  
** **

"I'm worried about you," She tells him matter-of-factly and Harry sighs because he knows that already. ****  
** **

She's been telling him that for five weeks. Harry worries about himself too, but what else is there for him to do? He gets out of bed, and he goes to work. He keeps _going._ He keeps his routine, and he tries to be _fine_ . It's not like he locks himself inside his room and refuses to leave — he left that behind on the first weekend of the first week, but now he knows better than to let himself be dragged down even _more_ . ****  
** **

"I'm fine," He insists, and he knows that _she_ knows it's a lie, but what is left for him to say? He doesn't want to say all the things he's kept inside for all this time _now_ nor ever. It's not going to change anything, so why bother? He would rather lie than deal with actually talking about what he's really feeling. "I texted Mitch on my way here. Do you wanna get drunk tonight?" ****  
** **

Sarah sighs deeply, and, from the corner of his eyes, he can see her placing her elbows on her desk with her chin on her hands, looking at him with a defeated expression. "Fine," she agrees exasperatedly, "But, please, don't try to hook me up with him again." ****  
** **

"I have to because _you_ don't," He states, and, honestly, he's so annoyed by that. ****  
** **

Harry hates that the two of his best friends aren't together because they are both so stubborn it hurts his head. However, part of it makes him relieved because it means they will keep them busy enough not to think about something that he's never ready to really think about. So, _yes_ , he's glad he's got to play the cupid part on their lives because he honestly doesn't have anything better to do. ****  
** **

"Well, I don't because I'm trying to hook you up with someone, too," Sarah tells him, and it's nothing new, "And also because I don't wanna hook up with Mitch." ****  
** **

Harry rolls his eyes and types his password to log in to his email, reading the one from Mr. Truman informing him what he's supposed to write about today and what else he's supposed to do that hasn't much to do with his job because, really, it's _routine_ . Mr. Truman would rather spend his day asking Harry and Sarah for something that has nothing to do with _writing_ than doing anything else for that matter. ****  
** **

"You do," He looks at her briefly and finds her huffing annoyed, typing at her laptop. "You're just too stubborn to admit. At least _he_ admits it." ****  
** **

"We're not compatible," She smiles tightly, and he chuckles weakly, feeling his chest get a little bit lighter. "Where are we going, then?" ****  
** **

"I don't know," He shrugs. "I don't care if we stay in and drink our brains off." ****  
** **

"Jesus, Harry, stop being such a soul-sucker," She groans, and he chuckles once again, a bit louder this time. He's relieved to feel something rather than _nothing_ for a moment. "It's Friday, for crying out loud. We're going _out_ , okay? There's a new place a few blocks from my apartment that looks pretty cool." ****  
** **

"Okay," He looks at her with soft eyes and a grateful smile, and he knows she _gets it_ when she smiles back, just as soft. ****  
** **

They carry on with their work, then, with Mr. Truman calling their names every hour to ask for something that isn't due until weeks from now and demand them to look after the new intern because he can't make his damn coffee right (because _that's_ his job, it seems — Harry _knows_ the nineteen-year-old boy is good at writing, and he shouldn't be worrying about making his boss coffee). ****  
** **

When it's time for their well deserved hour and a half lunch break, Harry and Sarah walk to the same restaurant they go every day (because it's cheaper than the others around and also the fastest one to prepare their food). They end up ordering the same they do every time — a turkey sandwich accompanied by a kale with chicken caesar-salad for Harry and a Mediterranean veggie sandwich accompanied by a strawberry poppyseed with chicken salad for Sarah (which Harry always makes fun of her for because it sounds to fancy in his ears). He usually orders an iced tea for a drink, but since he deserves a bit of sugar running in his veins, he orders a large soda, and that's it, really. ****  
** **

They sit across from each other on a table by the big window and eat quietly until Sarah eyes him taking a long sip of the terrible thing people call Pepsi — how do they _love_ this? It tastes like syrup, the gross medicine kind. Harry regrets drinking that already, but he doesn't give a single fuck now, does he? Look at him, so rebellious, drinking _soda_ . ****  
** **

"Why the hell are you drinking that?" Sarah asks with a hint of laughter in her voice. ****  
** **

"I felt like drinking something disgusting. Also, I wanted sugar," He explains calmly after swallowing a bite of his sandwich. ****  
** **

"Why didn't you just order a cookie or a doughnut or a cupcake or whatever?" She rolls her eyes at him and takes a bite of her own sandwich. "You're a drama queen, that's what you are," She says with her mouth full. ****  
** **

He crinkles his nose at her and chuckles lightly. "Thank you," he says. "It's not like my life's turned upside down out of the fucking blue or anything." ****  
** **

He realizes he's said too much when it's too late to save himself from it, and when he's got Sarah's careful eyes on him it's too much because he doesn't want her looking at him like that. He doesn't want anyone looking at him like that, let alone his _friends_. ****  
** **

"Don't say anything," He asks tightly. "Please." Then he stuffs his mouth with a huge bite of his salad just so he can't say anything else, and he keeps doing that with the rest of his food until he's done. By the time that happens, Sarah is also finished and they are ready to go back to work. ****  
** **

Sarah doesn't say anything else, sticking to his request, and he's glad she's understanding enough not to bug him with any more questions that would lead him to have a breakdown. ****  
** **

 

*** ****  
** **

 

It's around six-thirty p.m when Harry and Sarah are sitting side by side in the tube, heading in the direction of her building, and Harry is still as quiet as he can usually be, his chest too heavy and mind too damn loud for him to even say anything that wouldn't end up being _I miss him so much and I don't know where he is,_ and it wouldn't be anything Sarah already doesn't know. ****  
** **

It has been even harder throughout this whole entire week — on Monday, Harry woke up in the middle of the night with his breath quick and his chest hurting to how much it felt like something was squeezing his heart inside. The worst part was that his first reaction was to reach out his arm to the other side of the bed to grasp that one person who would always cuddle him back to his sleep just to find nothing but empty and cold sheets; on Tuesday, it was the same, just like on Wednesday. Then, on Thursday, it happened again, but he couldn't go back to sleep even after lying still on the bed for half an hour, so he stood up and made his way to the bathroom to stare at himself in the mirror until he couldn't handle the sight of his own reflection anymore and broke down to tears. ****  
** **

Now, it's Friday, and it happened all over again. He doesn't know how to cope — so he sits still next to his friend, silent and thoughtful, while Sarah looks at him from time to time, sighing sadly with worried eyes. ****  
** **

"It'll get better, you know," Sarah tells him fifteen minutes into their journey, and he raises his head from the window to look at her tiredly. "You'll hear something from them in no time." ****  
** **

"It's been weeks, Sarah," He reminds her with a deep sigh and looks away, holding his backpack tightly against his chest. "And I don't wanna talk about it." ****  
** **

"Okay." She sighs. "But just...try not to think about it just for a while, okay? Please. I'll try my best to take your mind off of it even for a moment." ****  
** **

Harry closes his eyes with a short nod. He doesn't bother telling her that it's not her job to take his mind off of it, and that she shouldn't think it is, not even for a second. She won't listen to him, anyway, so he leaves it at that. ****  
** **

Ten minutes later they get off of the tube and Sarah leads them to the bar that it is indeed really close to where she lives. He can't even pronounce the name of it — he's pretty sure it's something Irish, giving the flag hanging by the front door. ****  
** **

They spot Mitch by the counter of the bar chatting with a blond lad standing on the inside, across from him as they calmly make their way there. Harry places both of his hands on Mitch's shoulder and smiles politely at the man who's now smiling at them. ****  
** **

"Hey, mate," Mitch greets him with a squeeze of hands on his wrists and a big smile. "Sarah, love. Hi." ****  
** **

"Hello, Mitch," Sarah says with a tight smile, but Harry knows better. She'll give in, eventually, giving the way her mouth twitches of how much she wants to _actually_ smile. ****  
** **

"This is Niall," Mitch points to the blond lad across the counter. "He owns the place." ****  
** **

"That I do," Niall agrees with a light chuckle. "Welcome, you two. Nice to meet you," He offers his right hand for Harry and Sarah to shake; Harry likes him immediately. Even the sound of his voice with his accent makes Harry like him that quickly. ****  
** **

"I live just a few blocks away," Sarah makes conversation as she sits down between Harry and Mitch. "You'll see my face very often." ****  
** **

Niall chuckles amusedly and nods excitedly. "I'll make sure to look nice every night." ****  
** **

Harry huffs a quiet laugh when he sees the frown on Mitch's face and the blush on Sarah's cheeks. "Are you Irish, then?" he asks just to make the scene in front of him less awkward, and Niall looks at him, smiling. ****  
** **

"Yeah, yeah. I've been in New York for a year now," He tells them. "It's been nice." ****  
** **

"You're a long way from home," Sarah comments easily. "Hope you're liking the big old apple so far." He laughs with a nod, and she smiles big, making Mitch's frown deepen. "Soooo, this curly man here wants to get smashed, and so do we. What do you have for us?" ****  
** **

"I've got a bunch of Irish beer, so I'll bring some of them for you. Mitch's tried two so far." ****  
** **

"They're so good, mate," Mitch looks at Harry with an exasperated look, and Harry chuckles amusedly. "It makes me feel bad that I wanna punch his face now," He whispers close to Harry's ear. ****  
** **

Sarah clears her throat loudly, and Niall seems to be holding back a laugh. "Right. Bring them to us, then. I'm sure we'll like them all. We're beer people." ****  
** **

"Be right back," Niall waves a hand at them and heads off to the back of the counter to grab them their beers. There are two more people working at the counter bar with them besides the three more waitering around the tables. ****  
** **

"You like him, then, huh?" Mitch is fast to make a comment about the mild flirting between Sarah and Niall. ****  
** **

"Um, yes? He's polite and seems like a good guy. Why wouldn't I like him?" Sarah narrows her eyes at Mitch, and Harry rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. ****  
** **

"He seems into you," Mitch states, and it's quite comical how jealous he can get when it's Sarah and other men on the scene. "Maybe he'll ask you out." ****  
** **

Harry drums his fingers on the wood counter and sighs deeply. ****  
** **

"So what if he does?" Sarah raises her brows at Mitch and Harry just wants to grab his best friend's long stupid hair and shake his head until he wakes the fuck up. ****  
** **

"Maybe you should agree to it," He shrugs, and Harry is _done_. ****  
** **

"Oh, my God, Mitch. She won't agree to it because she's into _you_ instead. Gee, seems like _I_ have to do _everything_ around here." ****  
** **

"Harry!" Sarah frowns at him, and he would believe how upset that would actually make her if it wasn't for the amused smile spreading on her face. "This is ridiculous. I'm not into _anyone_ ." ****  
** **

"Grow  up, please. I'm begging you. You're twenty-eight and thirty-one years old. Stop acting like teenagers, for fuck's sake," He says as he watches Niall makes his way back to them with three big bottles of beer, each one of a different brand, and three large glasses on a tray. ****  
** **

He sees Mitch roll his eyes, then Niall is there again, smiling big and placing the bottles and glasses in front of them, looking just as excited as a kid can get when seeing a bag of candies. ****  
** **

"Tell me if you need anything else, and if you want any more of these. If you want to try something different, let me know. I'll be out there helping them," He points to the two people working behind the counter, a brunette and hazel-eyed girl and a model alike guy that should probably be walking on catwalks or posing for the most famous magazines in the world, really. "They're still learning how to make the drinks right. You can call for them, too. That's Jade and Zayn." ****  
** **

"Okay. Thank you, Niall," Harry nods with a polite smile then the blond lad is gone again.

Harry keeps his eyes on the model alike guy for a little longer than he should, since Sarah is nudging him on the arm with her elbow and then he's rolling his eyes at her. "Stop," he says. ****  
** **

"He's gorgeous," She states the obvious and Harry shrugs, pouring some of one of the beers into his own glass and taking a sip of it, enjoying the taste as he swallows down. ****  
** **

"I don't care," He says, and Mitch laughs quietly, shaking his head as if he can't believe Harry would say that. "And this one is pretty good," He points to the red bottle he's just poured into his glass from. ****  
** **

"Is your sister coming to New York this weekend?" Mitch asks to change the subject that Sarah didn't seem like she was about to drop, and Harry looks at him, grateful. "I remember you mentioning it last week." ****  
** **

"Yeah, I think so." He nods, taking a large gulp of the beer to empty his glass in a second. Sarah raises her brows at him, "I haven't heard from her since yesterday. I'll give her a call in the morning." ****  
** **

"What is she doing in Chicago, again?" Sarah looks at him, pouring some more into his glass and into her own. ****  
** **

"She's got her own clothing design and the main store is there, so she decided it would be best to just live there as well," he explains. He's glad his friends know him enough to avoid the elephant in the room, which is Harry and the weight he's carrying on his shoulders. ****  
** **

"Oh, yeah, it's true. She's the rich one in the family," Mitch hums with a nod. Sarah laughs along with Harry, who shrugs in response. ****  
** **

It doesn't take him long to get tired of drinking just beer and to need stronger drinks. Therefore, two hours later, he is on his third shot tequila and fourth glass of Margarita, feeling his mind dizzy and chest a little bit less heavy and tight than before. It feels good to feel a little less miserable for once. ****  
** **

"Thanks, guys," He slurs after downing his third shot, grimacing at the burn down his throat. "I'm glad I have you to get drunk with me." ****  
** **

"We're not drunk _with_ you. We're basically just watching you get drunk," Mitch tells him but it's a lie, Harry knows that. Both of his friends are slightly less drunk than him, but are drunk nonetheless. ****  
** **

"As long as you're here with me, it's _aaaaall_ good," Harry points a finger at them. "When are you gonna fuck, anyway? You've got the opportunity of being with who you want to and don't make a good use out of it!" ****  
** **

Sarah and Mitch stare at him sadly then, and Harry is too tired and numb and _less heavy_ to care about it. He huffs annoyed, though, and rolls his eyes anyway. ****  
** **

"Harry," Sarah starts, but the soft and careful tone of her voice is alarming to Harry, which is why he drinks the fewer bits of his Margarita and stands up abruptly, reaching for a few bills in the back pocket of his pants and slamming it on the counter. ****  
** **

"I'm heading off. I'm tired and I need to sleep," He informs his friends while they frown at him. ****  
** **

"Harry, I can take you," Mitch moves to stand up but Harry is surprisingly quick to stop him from doing so by grabbing his shoulders and keeping him on his seat. ****  
** **

"No. You're not taking the subway all the way back to my place with me. It's way out of hand. I'll take an uber." ****  
** **

"Harry, are you sure?" Sarah sounds worried and Harry looks at her, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder and squeeze it. He's too drunk to come up with an excuse that would replace _I wanna be alone and don't wanna see your faces until Monday_ . ****  
** **

"See you later," He says. "Bye Niall!" ****  
** **

The blond smiley lad waves at him, then Harry is walking out of the place, not daring to give a second glance to his friends. ****  
** **

He grabs his phone and opens the uber app, typing an address as his final destination that he really shouldn't, but a drunk Harry is a careless Harry, therefore he doesn't give it much thought. ****  
** **

Three minutes later he's inside the car with a very nice and funny old man that keeps asking him what's his business down the Central Park Precinct, and the only response Harry gives him is a shrug. ****  
** **

When the man actually parks in front of Harry's stupid final destination, his heart starts racing, and he doesn't even know why he thought this would be a good idea in the first place. ****  
** **

He sighs deeply and thanks the man, grabbing his backpack to fix it over his shoulders and gets out of the car, standing still in front of that place he hates so much. ****  
** **

Feeling drunk-brave, he stomps into the Precinct and doesn't bother to greet anyone, making his way to the elevator and pressing the second-floor button. He's feeling uneasy all of sudden, thinking that this isn't a good idea. _At all_ . This is terrible. ****  
** **

When the doors finally open, he steps out and into a place he shouldn't know all that well, with faces he wishes he didn't know at all. ****  
** **

"Harry," He hears a surprised voice that he recognizes as Jake Reed's and closes his eyes tightly before turning his head to see the man sitting behind his desk with a surprised look on his face. "Are you okay? What are you doing here so late?" ****  
** **

"Detective Reed, hello," He greets him as he makes his way to said desk, all the while feeling careful and surprised eyes on him. "I'm here to report a complaint." ****  
** **

Harry can tell the man already knows he's drunk by the look on his face, and Harry wants to punch him until he's got bruises all over his stupid face. ****  
** **

"Okay, of course. Sit down," He points to the chair places next to his desk and Harry sits on it with a loud thump, leaving his backpack on the floor, next to the chair. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need some water? Anne, get him some water plea —" ****  
** **

"I don't need water!" Harry snaps, interrupting Jake Reed from speaking any longer. "I wanna complain about how shit at doing your jobs you all are!" ****  
** **

"Harry, please, calm down and we can —" ****  
** **

"I don't want to calm the fuck down!" He's a ticking time bomb, he can feel it. He'll explode and end up crying in a moment. "I haven't heard from you all in two weeks and you said — you _promised_ you would do something!" ****  
** **

"We're trying our best, Harry. You know it isn't that simple to —" ****  
** **

"It's been five fucking weeks, Jake!" Harry explodes then, just like he knew he would, and lets the stupid tears fall down and make him look like a fool. "Where _is he_?! Where the fuck is he, Jake?! You all promised to do everything and anything to find him, and I haven't heard from you for two damn weeks!" ****  
** **

"I promise we _are_ doing everything and anything we can, Harry. Please, calm down. Anne, get him water," Jake looks at the redheaded woman sitting behind the table across from him and she nods quickly, sighing sadly as she makes her way to get Harry his stupid water. ****  
** **

"I wanna speak to Captain Weber," He demands and moves to stand up from the chair, but Jake is quick to hold his wrist carefully and keep him down. ****  
** **

"He's not here right now, but we are listening to you, Harry. We wanna find him too, I promise you that. And we will." ****  
** **

"What if —" Harry sobs, he can't even say it out loud. It hurts too much to even think about it.

Anne comes back with a glass of water and places it on the desk in front of Harry. He looks up at her and gives her a thankful nod before taking the glass and drinking it all in one go. He can see his hands shaking. ****  
** **

"He's not," Jake understands him somehow. "He's _not_ , Harry." ****  
** **

"Where's Kristen?" He asks as he wipes his cheeks with the back of his hands, looking around and feeling uneasy as he doesn't find the green-eyed and delicate-faced woman. ****  
** **

"She's interrogating a guy about a bank robbery that happened last night," Jake tells him and Harry nods, biting the inside of his cheeks as he suddenly feels the need to cry again. "I can switch places with her if you wanna talk to her instead." ****  
** **

"No, it's alright. It's just...she's his best friend," Harry quietly says. ****  
** **

"I know. She hasn't given up, okay? None of us have." ****  
** **

"Okay," He sighs. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm drunk, and I'm so fucking sad all the time." ****  
** **

"Why don't I take you home? No need for a cab or anything. I'll drive you," Jake suggests as he stands up from his chair and Harry nods in agreement, defeated. ****  
** **

He stands up and gives a weak wave at Anne and follows Jake to the elevator, where the ride down is silent and sorrowful. Harry is too tired to say anything and Jake seems to understand his mood, not pushing words out of him. ****  
** **

When they're inside one of the Precinct's car, Harry rests his head against the closed window and sighs deeply as he closes his eyes. ****  
** **

"We'll find him, Harry," Jake reassures into the silence causing Harry to open his eyes to look at him. "The Precinct isn't the same without him. We'll find him." ****  
** **

"Thank you, Jake," He smiles weakly. "And I'm sorry, again. I get really out of mind when I'm drunk and say things I shouldn't." ****  
** **

"It's okay. I understand your frustration," Jake sighs, and Harry looks away again, closing his eyes. ****  
** **

Twenty minutes later Jake is parking the car in front of Harry's building with a deep and worried frown. Harry opens the door and looks at him, sighing. ****  
** **

"Thank you, Jake. I appreciate it." ****  
** **

"You know you can call us if you need anything, right? We're not his friends only, we're yours too." ****  
** **

"I know," He nods, biting his bottom lip nervously. "Thanks, again." ****  
** **

"Take care." ****  
** **

Harry sends him one more grateful look before getting out of the car to make his way to his apartment on the fifth floor as fast as he can. He's only able to breathe letting out a loud sob when he's locked away and safe in his home, leaving his backpack on the floor and sliding down against the door until he's sitting on the floor with his arms around his knees pressed against his chest. ****  
** **

He rests his head back against the door and opens his eyes to the dark and silent living room surrounding him — he's feels so alone all the damn time. It's like there's no use of even having such a big apartment anymore. He wants to move out and move _away_. He wants to leave and never come back to this place. He wants the smartest of all scientists to come up with a machine that can take away his memories just so he no longer will feel like there's an empty hole in his chest. ****  
** **

Harry grabs his backpack and stands up from the floor with a tired sigh, throwing it on the couch and making his way through the dark hall that eventually leads him to his bedroom.

He's about to turn the lights on when he sees a silhouette sitting on the armchair by the left corner of the room, a few feet apart from the bed and close to the window. His heart hammers against his chest and he wishes Jake would've come up with him until he blinks quickly and _sees_. ****  
** **

He's surprised, for a moment, that he didn't recognize that same silhouette at first sight because, honestly, he would recognize it with his eyes closed if it was even possible. ****  
** **

He knows who's sitting there and doesn't even need to turn the lights on to be sure, and suddenly he worries that he's gone so mad that his mind is finally playing wicked tricks on him. He's not even that drunk anymore. ****  
** **

After a few seconds too long, he decides that it's best if he turns the lights on, just to be entirely sure that he's not gone crazy. ****  
** **

It's like his heart is a ticking time bomb that it's just a few seconds away from exploding and creating chaos when he's finally able to see clearly with the lights on. His heart is beating so fast it actually hurts his chest and makes his stomach feel funny like he might throw up at any moment now. ****  
** **

He can't believe his eyes. ****  
** **

It's been five weeks, _too long_ , and it just seems too much of a coincidence that exactly after his scene down the Precinct, _this_ would happen. ****  
** **

He can't deal with this and he doesn't know how to. _What is happening?_ is what his mind screams at him when he suddenly starts crying. He can't even hold the tears back; he doesn't even have the time to _think_ before he's a sobbing mess. ****  
** **

"What are you doing here?" He manages to make his words out between all the sobs and he can't _move_. He doesn't think he can go any closer to the chair without passing out. " _How_ are you here? What the fuck is happening right now?" ****  
** **

"Harry," Then there's his voice, his sweet, sweet voice, and Harry cries harder. ****  
** **

It's like the heavy weight on his shoulder is melting down into his body and making him _hurt._ It hurts all over and suddenly all the pain from these five weeks of _nothing_ is too much, and he doesn't know how to make it stop. ****  
** **

"Oh, my God," He sobs, and he's stupid. He's so stupid. This is _it,_ he should know what to say and how to handle the situation because he's _Harry_ , and Harry always knows how to handle difficult situations. "Oh, God. Louis." ****  
** **

The silhouette he knows so well stands up from the armchair, then, and makes his way to stand in front of Harry, his terribly sad blue eyes looking up at him as if silently begging him to stop crying because this is too much. ****  
** **

"Harry, please," He says, and Harry tries his best to just stop. He can actually do it for a whole two seconds before he hears his voice again. "Baby, I'm so sorry." ****  
** **

There are angry tears, right then, and Harry likes these ones better because it makes his blood boil in his veins and it makes him frown at the beautiful blue-eyed man standing in front of him. ****  
** **

Then Harry pushes him angrily, because that's the only thing he can actually do instead of speaking, and it seems like a better idea. ****  
** **

"Harry, please," Louis repeats, and Harry shoves him by his shoulders one more time. "Please, please." ****  
** **

"What the fuck, Louis!" He's still sobbing, but he's relieved to be so fucking _angry_. "What the fuck, what the fuck, _what the fuck!_ " ****  
** **

Louis grabs his wrists tightly to stop him from pushing any more. Harry looks at him with watery and burning angry eyes while Louis looks at him with defeated and pleading ones.

"Please, let me talk to you. Let me explain," He hears Louis plead with a broken voice. He takes a deep and shaky breath, nodding curtly before wiggling his wrists out of Louis' hands and stepping away from him, still so angry his head actually hurts. ****  
** **

"What the fuck is this, Louis? How are you even here right now? What the fuck is _happening_?" He demands as he starts pacing in front of Louis, stopping only to give a hard look at Louis and then start pacing again. "What is this?! Are you playing me around?!" ****  
** **

"I'm not. I'm not," Louis shakes his head and reaches out for Harry's hands. Harry doesn't let him, though, and snaps his hands away as if he's been burned. "I haven't. I promise this will all make sense in a second. Just let me explain everything." ****  
** **

"I'm fucking listening." ****  
** **

Louis sits down on the bed and stares at him tiredly, and just then Harry realizes he looks so different than the last time they saw each other, and it makes his heart hurt so much it brings tears to his eyes all over again — he's skinnier, that's the first thing Harry notices as he wanders his eyes around Louis' face and sees his cheekbones more prominent than ever He's also got a beard that covers half of his cheeks and all of his jaw; his beautiful blue eyes are surrounded by dark circles that make him look so, so tired. He's wearing clothes that Harry's never seen him with — dark blue baggy sweatpants and a gray Knicks sweatshirt (Louis is not even a fan of basketball, let alone a Knicks fan). He's also wearing Harry's old Rolling Stones black cap that Harry didn't even notice it had been gone all this time. ****  
** **

"I had to leave, Harry," Louis starts speaking and Harry widens his eyes, breathing so fast he thinks he might have a heart attack. ****  
** **

"You _had_ to leave?" He repeats. "You mean that leaving was a choice?!" He knows his voice is loud but he doesn't give a single fuck. "I thought — what the fuck, Louis! I thought you were kidnapped! I thought you were fucking dead!" He feels his eyes burn with tears one more time, the thought of Louis being actually _gone_ still too much for him to handle. ****  
** **

"Harry, please, let me talk," Louis pleads one more time as he runs his hands over his face, and Harry stays quiet, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Louis. "I've been screwed over." ****  
** **

"You've been — what? Why?" ****  
** **

Louis narrows his eyes at him, and Harry notices a soft and small smile on the corner of his lips. "Will you let me talk?" ****  
** **

"Fine," Harry huffs, still so fucking angry. ****  
** **

"I shouldn't even be here," Louis shakes his head. "I don't know who's behind this. I have a few leads. Someone set me up, and now there are threats that involve me and _you_ ," Harry widens his eyes with a gasp, and Louis bites his bottom lip tensely before speaking up again. "And I'm so worried all the damn time. I couldn't stay here knowing they could come for me at any time and hurt you." ****  
** **

"I think that's a —" ****  
** **

" _And_ ," Louis interrupts him. "I decided it would be best if I disappeared and found who's doing this, so they wouldn't take me away for real. It's a risk for me to be here. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you, Harry. Please, understand that I never wanted to leave. I never want to actually leave you, but this is for your own safety." ****  
** **

"Honestly, Louis, what the fuck?!" ****  
** **

"What?" Louis whispers, confused by his reaction and Harry wants to punch him in the face. ****  
** **

"Why didn't you tell me?! What about your family, you absolute asshole?! They've been worried sick, and I've been fucking miserable!" Harry takes a few steps until he's right in front of Louis, shoving him by the shoulders again. "Oh, my God. Did everyone in the Precinct know about this already?" ****  
** **

"Um, they —" ****  
** **

"They did!" Harry shoves him one more time and Louis sighs defeated. "They fucking knew about this, and I've been left in the dark all this time! What's wrong with you?!" ****  
** **

"Harry, I couldn't say anything! I shouldn't even be here!" He runs his hands through his hair. "And no, not everyone knows, okay? Kristen and Captain Weber do, and now you do too, and you have to swear you won't tell anyone about it." ****  
** **

"I don't — ugh! I don't fucking care!" ****  
** **

Louis stands up from the bed, then, and places both of his hands on Harry's jaw, squeezing it tightly and pulling him closer to his own face. "You should. It's your own safety at risk, and I wasn't about to screw it up by letting my feelings in the middle of this. I shouldn't be here, and when I leave, you're gonna pretend I wasn't here at all." ****  
** **

Harry is staring back at him with wide eyes, his own hands wrapped around Louis' wrists tightly as he breathes heavily. ****  
** **

"You're — no. No! You're leaving again?" He frowns deep at how much it hurts thinking about Louis leaving him behind to deal with all the emptiness. "And what do you mean they would take you away for _real_ ?" ****  
** **

"Harry," Louis wraps his hands around Harry's neck and nudges those pretty lips against his. "I have to. Baby, I _have_  to." He sighs. "This is so messed up, love. I have no idea how I've got myself into this, but it's some FBI shit." ****  
** **

"Oh, God, Louis. What — how...where have you been all this time? Don't do this again. We can work this out. We'll talk to them and tell them you're innocent, you didn't do anything!" ****  
** **

"I can't say. Harry, please, listen to me, okay? Stick to your friends, go away for the weekend or spend an entire week or even month, for that matter, with your sister, okay?" Harry is shaking his head just as Louis speaks all this nonsense, his eyes shut closed. "Whoever this is, that could set me up like this, will stop threatening you as well as soon as they see we're not around each other anymore, okay? I promise this is for the best." ****  
** **

"Louis, no. No, no, no." ****  
** **

"It's okay," Harry opens his eyes when he hears Louis' shaky voice and is in absolute pain when he sees Louis' red watery eyes looking at him like he's his entire world. "I'll find this person, and they'll go to jail. Everything will be cleared up." ****  
** **

"What are they saying to you? What is happening? Why would someone do this?" ****  
** **

"You don't need to know," Louis presses his lips hard against Harry's, pulling away after a second too soon. "Just do what I asked you to, please?" ****  
** **

"I miss you," Harry sobs. "I miss you too much. I can't handle this, especially not now that I know you're in danger. No, Louis. No. You're not leaving again." ****  
** **

"Kristen and Captain Weber are helping me," Louis tries to calm him down with his soothing voice and soft hands running over his cheeks slowly. "But not even they know where I've been, okay? But they've got my back. Everything will be fine." ****  
** **

Harry shakes his head again. "I need you here," he pleads brokenly. "This isn't fair." ****  
** **

"I know it isn't," Louis nods, his eyes never leaving Harry's with their foreheads glued to each other. "And I miss you, too. So much. But it is what it is, right? We'll work this out. I'll find this person, and I'll be back home in no time, you'll see." ****  
** **

Louis steps away from him then and Harry whimpers, his heart sinking in his chest. "Lou, please."

"It's okay." Louis nods once again and makes his way to the bedroom door. "Don't do anything stupid, please? I promise I'm okay."

"Please, don't."

"I love you," Louis whispers into the room and Harry blinks away his stubborn tears. "Take care, okay? As I told you, I'll be back home in no time."

Then Louis is walking out of the bedroom, it takes three seconds for Harry to hear the front door being closed shut, and it takes him two more to start sobbing loudly in the middle of the room, empty once again. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**YOU GOT A HEART OF GOLD**

 

**_Louis, three months ago_ **

****

Louis sighs in relief when he steps into the warmth of his Precinct and away of the cold New York's March outside, smiling wide when he sees a large cup of what's probably hot coffee on his desk across from Kristen's and a few feet away to the side of Jake's and Anne's. He sits down on his chair and takes the cup in his hands, raising his brows at his best friend sitting across from him, her eyes locked on the screen of her laptop, and he's sure she isn't as busy as she makes it looks like. ****  
** **

"What's up?" He speaks up and she raises her eyes from the screen to look at him, her cheeks a bit red from the cold and her short blond hair messy, probably from the wild wind outside. ****  
** **

"Just finishing the report about that stupid kid who thought it would be a good idea to rob a bank in the middle of the day wearing a thong," She tells him annoyed, and he laughs amusedly as he waits for his own computer to start, nodding his head as she speaks. "He was high on something that was definitely  _ not  _ marijuana." ****  
** **

"It's been a while since  _ we _ got high on marijuana," He whispers loud enough so she can hear him after he's leaned against the table, closer to her. She blinks at him, expression blank. "Come on, I know you would do it again without even thinking twice." ****  
** **

"I know, but you would think more than twice giving that your hubby will kick your ass if you so much as get near that ever again." ****  
** **

"Why do you think he's like that?" Louis chuckles after sipping from his cup. "Thanks for the coffee, by the way. And he's not my  _ hubby _ . Not yet, anyways." ****  
** **

"Maybe because you're so whipped for him? It's disgusting," She rolls her eyes and stops typing just so she can look at him. "You're welcome. And you might as well just be married already, how long have you two been together? Ever since first grade? It's ridiculous." ****  
** **

Louis shrugs, a pleased smile plastered on his face. "Ever since my junior year in college. He was a freshman. You know that already." ****  
** **

"And yet you never get tired of telling me that again," She huffs, going back to typing. "We should follow that lead on Mrs. Aspen's bookstore fire."

"Are we sure it wasn't an accident?" He fixes himself on his chair and opens the said case's file on his computer. ****  
** **

"Yep," Kristen nods, and Louis sighs, looking at her. "What? You know it wasn't an accident. Stop being such a lazy dumbass and let's get to work. She's a nice little lady." ****  
** **

"I bet her son did it. He's such a creep." ****  
** **

"Don't judge the book by the cover, Tomlinson," He hears Jake say all the way from his desk and turns his chair to look at him with raised brows. "Good morning, my dear friend." ****  
** **

"Do you think the son did it?" ****  
** **

"Do I care? I've got a better case to work on," He brags, and Louis narrows his eyes at him. ****  
** **

"What?" ****  
** **

"The Hapstall case." ****  
** **

Louis widens his eyes at him with a gasp, standing up from his chair so fast he almost trips on his own feet. Kristen snorts at his reaction, just like everyone else around him. ****  
** **

"Are you kidding me?" ****  
** **

"You know I'm not." ****  
** **

"I was supposed to be on that case with you! Why am I stuck with Kristen's lame fire accident?!" ****  
** **

"It was  _ not _ an accident!" ****  
** **

"Hey, it's not my fault the Captain wanted Anne working with me on this one instead of you," Jake raises his head to his shoulder, blinking slowly at Louis. ****  
** **

"I can't believe this!" He huffs exasperated and stomps to Captain Weber's office, knocking three times on the door. ****  
** **

"Careful, he's in a mood today," Anne warns him with a chuckle, and he rolls his eyes at her, waiting impatiently until he hears the Captain's voice telling him to walk inside. ****  
** **

"Morning, Captain," He greets him politely, not letting his annoyance show. ****  
** **

Captain Weber looks at him with an unimpressed look, just like he does every single time. He's a difficult man to deal with and Louis has known this ever since the Captain's first day on the Precinct. It's been three years, and he hasn't befriended any of the detectives or any other employees for that matter. The man is as cold-hearted as someone can be.

"What do you want, Tomlinson?" ****  
** **

"I was just wondering why am I not in the Hapstall case with Detective Reed, sir." ****  
** **

"Because I want Detective Monaco to be on the case and not you," Captain Weber says easily. Louis has to bite his bottom lip hard, so he won't say anything that will get him in trouble. ****  
** **

"It's just that I already did a lot for the case, sir," He argues, but it's no use. ****  
** **

"I still want Detective Monaco to be on this case and not you," His boss reaffirms, and he makes his best not to roll his eyes. "Also, I want you to work on the Ivanov case." ****  
** **

Louis widens his eyes then, surprised. "The big drug mafia case?" ****  
** **

"Yes." ****  
** **

"Wow. Um, okay. That's...yes. Of course." ****  
** **

"Not until you're done with Mrs. Aspen's bookstore fire, though," The Captain adds and Louis sighs. "So you'd better get to work and help Detective Stewart." ****  
** **

"Will she tag in on the Ivanov case with me? She'd be thrilled." ****  
** **

"No, I'll be tagging in with you," He's informed and presses his lips together, even more surprised. "It's a case I've been dying to close ever since I've got here. We'll bust them in no time." ****  
** **

"Alright, then, Captain," Louis smiles genuinely at him, pleased to where this conversation took a turn. "I'll see you later." ****  
** **

Captain Franklin Weber had replaced Captain Alessio Gamman three years ago when the latter took a job as Captain in another Precinct that is closer to his home and has fewer cases that the Central Park one. Louis' new — but not so new anymore — is a good twenty years older than him but doesn't seem to age a day with his dark and perfect skin. Louis envies him. During his first days, the whole Precinct was kind of scared of him, but then, as time went on, they all got used to his unusual way of behaving around people (as in never giving much of his thoughts and life and never befriending anyone at work) and things were normal once again. ****  
** **

Louis only wishes the man wasn't so serious all the time and actually let him choose his cases for once. At least he hasn't been so mean lately and is letting him work on the tough ones, except the bookstore fire that he's now stuck with and the one from the week before, in which a nineteen-year-old boy was pretending to be a vampire and went out and about biting people skin off, out of nowhere. ****  
** **

Honestly, the things Louis has to deal with. ****  
** **

"You can shove the Hapstall case up your ass, Reed," Louis grins when he sits back down on his chair and starts reading through the bookstore fire case's file once again before he and Kristen have to leave to follow up some more leads. ****  
** **

"Damn it. He gave you the Ivanov case, didn't he? I can see it in your stupid face," Jake groans and Louis laughs quietly. ****  
** **

"He did?!" Kristen kicks his ankle behind the table and causing him to yelp, frowning at her. "Did you ask him if I could tag in with you?" ****  
** **

"I did and he said no. I'm sorry," He frowns at her apologetically and she sighs, nodding. ****  
** **

"It's fine. I'll get a good one eventually. Guess he's keeping it fair to everyone." ****  
** **

"It seems like it," Louis agrees. "When are we leaving?" ****  
** **

"In about twenty. We're going to knock on doors around the neighborhood, sorry." ****  
** **

"God, this is such a waste of time. Why don't we just arrest the son already?" ****  
** **

"Because we're good cops and we follow orders," She raises her brows at him, and he pushes his tongue out at her, looking back at the computer's screen and doing his best to read the whole file all over again. ****  
** **

"I hate it sometimes." ****  
** **

"Stop being such a whiny baby and get to work." ****  
** **

Louis sighs deeply and does as he's told.

****

***

****

"Why does it look like we're going in circles? No one seems to know anything, they're all as clueless as Mrs. Aspen is!" Louis complains when they're about to knock on the tenth door of the day and he's too hungry to deal with this. ****  
** **

It's almost eleven-thirty in the morning and he needs to sit down and breathe and eat something greasy that Harry will talk his ear off for later. ****  
** **

"I know," Kristen sighs and looks at him, annoyed. "But you know what's the hardest part of this whole thing?" ****  
** **

"What?" ****  
** **

"You, complaining the entire damn time." ****  
** **

Louis narrows his eyes at her, "I know you hate this as much as I do, so don't blame it on me." ****  
** **

She rolls her eyes and knocks on the door. "NYPD, open up," she calls and there's a commotion inside that alarms Louis. ****  
** **

He raises his brows at her and reaches out for his gun, touching it and ready to grab it in case something happens. He knocks on the door with his free hand, harder this time. ****  
** **

"NYPD, open up!" He repeats louder and then they hear a loud crash that sounds a lot like a breaking window. ****  
** **

Louis sighs deeply in annoyance and kicks the door open, running in the direction of where the sound came from and groaning when he sees a man already making his way away from the house. ****  
** **

"Come on!" Louis calls for Kristen when he runs through the front door that he's kicked open just a second ago and goes after the stupid man that thinks he can run away just like that. As if life is that simple. ****  
** **

"Let's corner him," Kristen suggests loudly as they run. "You go that way." She points to a right turn and Louis nods, running that way as his best friend runs to the left. ****  
** **

Louis doesn't know why the man thought it would be a good idea to make a run since it's a dead end street with two dead-end alleys and they would catch him anyway if he went the other way to escape. ****  
** **

So when he's got the man pressed against the wall with his front and hands cuffed on his back, he can't help but chuckle amusedly and call for Kristen between a laughter. ****  
** **

"Why did you think this would work?" He asks the man who just grunts in response. ****  
** **

" _ Busteeeed _ ," Kristen cheers as she makes her way through the alley with a smile. ****  
** **

"I didn't do anything!" The man shouts with an accent, and he sounds so terribly Australian that Louis wants to punch him. He looks Australian, too, with his stupid light brown hair, clear blue eyes, and tanned skin. He's also tall as fuck. ****  
** **

"You know the drill, man. You've got the right to remain silent," Kristen tells him, and Louis chuckles once again. ****  
** **

"You've got the wrong guy!" ****  
** **

"Why the fuck were you running, then?" Louis snaps, tugging at the handcuffs and the man grunts again. "You'll explain later in the interrogation room before we throw your ass in jail. That's where stupid men end up when they set fire to nice ladies' bookshops." ****  
** **

"I don't know what you're —" ****  
** **

"Man, shut up!" Kristen actually slaps the back of the man's head, and Louis widens his eyes at her amusedly, laughing loudly. ****  
** **

"I'll tell Captain Weber about this!" ****  
** **

"Shut up, you too. Let's get this moron to the car and get the hell outta here." ****  
** **

"We're the dream team, you and I," Louis grins at her and she rolls his eyes. "Do you wanna join our band, kangaroo man?" He looks at the guy who's frowning deeply as they make their way to the car. ****  
** **

"Shut up, Louis," Kristen laughs. ****  
** **

He looks at her with an amused and soft smile, glad to be working on this with her after all.

"Lunch time!" He shouts happily and then Kristen is laughing that loud laughter that always makes Louis laugh along with her.

****

***

****

It's around seven-forty p.m when Louis finally arrives home — after spending a very tiring rest of day trying to get something out of the runaway man that turned out to be someone who was not the person they were looking for, but still guilty of something else entirely (which was still okay, even though they now are still stuck on the bookstore fire's case) — to an apartment smelling so good it makes stomach growls. ****  
** **

He leaves his keys and wallet on the center-table in the living room and walks calmly to the kitchen, just to find Harry by the stove, humming a tune Louis doesn't recognize. ****  
** **

"Hello, beautiful," Louis steps behind him and wraps his arms around Harry's waist, making the younger one startle for a moment before he melts into his arms, sighing happily. ****  
** **

"Hi, Lou," He turns his head so Louis can briefly kiss his lips tenderly then turns his attention back to the pot on the stove. ****  
** **

"How was your day?" Louis asks after placing a soft kiss on Harry's neck and steps away to sit on the high stool by the kitchen counter, his eyes never leaving Harry's figure. ****  
** **

"Tiring," Harry tells him looking over his shoulder to give Louis a small smile. "But okay. Sarah still thinks she's not in love with Mitch, my boss still is an asshole. All the same." ****  
** **

Louis chuckles lightly with a nod and places his forearms on the counter, lacing his own finger together. "Just a different day, then." ****  
** **

"That's it," Harry nods, putting the lid on his left side on the pot and turns to look at Louis, resting his bottom against the sink. "What about yours?" ****  
** **

"It was alright," He shrugs, and Harry walks to him, making him turn the stool around so he's standing between his legs and wraps his arms around his shoulders. Louis smiles. "Still working on Mrs. Aspen's case with Kristen. We got a guy from the bookshop neighborhood but he wasn't the one who set fire to the place. He was actually the one stealing people's CDs from their houses." ****  
** **

Harry throws his head back laughing and Louis smiles softly and amusedly, placing his hands on Harry's love handles and squeezes them. "Stealing CDs? Who  _ does _ that?" ****  
** **

"Someone who thinks CDs will be relics in a few years, apparently." ****  
** **

Harry nods as if it makes so much sense and laughs again, squeezing his arms around Louis' shoulders and pulling himself closer to Louis. ****  
** **

"I'm making dolmas for us," Harry tells him in a whisper, and, honestly, it shouldn't sound as obscene as it does. ****  
** **

For God's sake, Harry is only letting him know what he's  _ cooking _ , it shouldn't make Louis' blood boil in his veins with desire. ****  
** **

"Oh? You're always finding ways to stuff me with healthy food, aren't you," Louis raises his brows and pecks Harry's lips quickly, earning a knowing smirk from him. ****  
** **

"I have to, don't I? What did you have for lunch today?" Louis bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing, causing Harry to narrow his eyes at him in suspicion. "It was a hot-dog, wasn't it?" ****  
** **

"I'm sorry! It was closer to the Precinct and it was the smartest choice, since it's like, fast food!" ****  
** **

"Louis, what the hell? There are literally tons of other places where you can eat besides that trashy hot-dog cart you like so much." ****  
** **

"Hey, it's not trashy!" ****  
** **

Harry rolls his eyes with an amused smile and places a quick kiss to Louis' lips before turning back to the stove and lowering the fire under the pot. ****  
** **

"You should just start taking your own lunch to work." ****  
** **

"You said that already. A thousand times before." ****  
** **

"I'll keep saying it until you listen to me." Harry shrugs. "Are you ready to eat?" ****  
** **

"I'm always ready to eat," Louis wiggles his brows and Harry glares at him only to end up laughing a second later. ****  
** **

Louis walks to the cupboard and grabs two plates to pass them to Harry, who serves them enough dolmas for a month, it seems. ****  
** **

"Do you want me to get sick from eating so much my stomach might explode?" Louis grabs his plate and sees the four green rolls. "Why are they green like this? I thought it was made with white cabbage?" ****  
** **

"I decided to try the original Greek one. Those are grape leaves," Harry informs him with a shrug and sits next to him by the counter. "Get us some wine, will you?" ****  
** **

"Where the fuck do you even find grape leaves, Harry?" He stares at his boyfriend for a second before huffing an exasperated groan after receiving a smirk and a shrug in response.

Louis stands up from the stool one more time to get the wine they opened three nights ago in the fridge then grabs them two wine glasses and walks back to the counter. He pours them half a cup and sits back down, cutting his first bite of the dolma and putting it in his mouth, all the while being watched by Harry. ****  
** **

"So?" Harry asks him with a small smile on the corner of his lips. "Better than with white cabbage, right?" ****  
** **

Louis chews slowly and hums in appreciation. This is actually pretty good. ****  
** **

"You're amazing," Louis compliments him, and Harry beams, making him smile. "What did you stuff in here?" He asks as he moves the roll around to see the inside. ****  
** **

"Rice and ground beef mixed with a bunch of other things you know nothing about," Harry says after swallowing his first bite and taking a sip of his wine. ****  
** **

"Rude," Louis points his fork at him and his heart warms at the sound of Harry's giggle. "You know, I've been thinking..." ****  
** **

Harry looks at him with attentive and soft eyes, always so eager and pleased to hear what Louis has to say and yet, this time, he looks so damn scary. ****  
** **

Louis has been meaning to talk to him about what's on his mind for a few months now — probably ever since they started living together, two years ago, really — and he's always too scared to do so. He's always afraid of Harry's reaction, and he doesn't want to screw anything up. The small red velvet box tucked safely inside the back of his drawer of socks seems to be burning a hole in his brain and heart, and he doesn't even keep it with him. He's been meaning to make  _ the special _ proposal for ten months now, yet it never seems like the perfect moment — actually, every moment with Harry is the perfect one, if he's honest, even the ones when they argue so bad they end up sleeping back to back to each other. ****  
** **

However, when it comes to  _ proposing,  _ he feels like he might choke due to how much he wants it to be extremely perfect and unforgettable for Harry. He would fly them to Paris if he had enough money right now and propose on the top of the Eiffel Tower, but he  _ can't _ because he's too damn afraid to do it right here, in New York (and also because he's been saving money ever since they started dating for their honeymoon he's planning in Bali). ****  
** **

Therefore, instead of actually proposing  _ now _ , he wants to talk about something that would involve getting married  _ before _ they actually do what Louis wants so bad for them. Just to see what Harry's reaction will be. ****  
** **

And the thing is that Louis doesn't even know why he's so damn scared of this — they've been together ever since Louis was twenty-one and Harry nineteen, for fuck's sake. They know each other enough. Louis is eight months away from turning twenty-eight, and he can't believe he's afraid at all of doing such thing. ****  
** **

As Kristen has told him so many times, they might as well be married already. They've been together for so long that it shouldn't even be this hard. Louis can't believe he didn't propose in their first year of being together. ****  
** **

"What is it, Lou?" Harry asks, waking him up from his trance. "You've gone really quiet. Are you okay?" ****  
** **

Louis didn't realize he was staring at Harry like a creep, without saying anything at all. ****  
** **

"It's just," He clears his throat and takes a long gulp of the wine, praying the alcohol will help him stop being such a coward. "I've been thinking about this for a while now." ****  
** **

"Okay," Harry nods and places his fork on his plate, giving his full attention to Louis.

Louis sighs deeply. "We should, you know," he clears his throat and Harry frowns, confused. "We should think about starting a family." ****  
** **

There, he said it. ****  
** **

God, it actually  _ hurt  _ saying that because his throat is so fucking dry, even with his glass of wine now completely empty. ****  
** **

Harry is staring at him with the prettiest and greenest eyes Louis has ever seen, filled with wonder. There's also confusion that Louis doesn't want to deal with and there's complete happiness that makes his heart melt into a thousand of little golden balls, if that even makes sense at all. ****  
** **

He's growing self-conscious as the clock hanging on the wall behind them goes  _ tick-tock,  _ and Harry doesn't say anything. God, he knew he shouldn't have said anything. He should have waited until Harry was the one to bring it up because he's the wise one in this relationship. Harry is the one who knows the right time for everything, and he should have just waited.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid. _ ****  
** **

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up like this. It's just that we've been together for so long, and I can't imagine starting a family with someone who isn't  _ you _ . I just thought we were ready, given that we have great jobs and everything. But I understand if you —" ****  
** **

" _ Lou _ ," Harry cuts through his monologue, and Louis looks up from his plate to Harry's green and scary eyes. "Why are you so nervous talking about this?" ****  
** **

"I'm not —" ****  
** **

"Lou. I don't want to  _ think _ about starting a family," Harry interrupts him one more time, and Louis stops breathing because this actually hurts more than suggesting the whole thing in the first place. He bites his bottom lip and looks away, hearing Harry chuckle quietly beside him before grabbing his hands into his own. "I already  _ want _ to start a family, why would I even need to think about it?" ****  
** **

Louis looks back at him with wide eyes, then. He swallows dry and squeezes Harry's hands.

"Really?" ****  
** **

"Why are you surprised, Lou? I can't believe you were so nervous to talk about this with me," Harry shakes his head in disbelief with an affectionate smile. "I love you so much, there's nothing that I want more than a family with you." ****  
** **

"God, I don't know why that was so hard for me to say," Louis breathes, and it feels like it's the first time he's ever done this. ****  
** **

"Is this you proposing to me?" ****  
** **

"What?" He widens his eyes, his heart suddenly beating so fast it hurts his chest. He might need a doctor. ****  
** **

Harry arches one of his brows and raises their hands to his lips, kissing Louis' knuckles one by one. ****  
** **

"I think it's funny that you thought I wouldn't see that box in your drawer of socks." ****  
** **

Louis gasps, and he can feel his cheeks burning. Jesus Christ, he's blushing like a sixteen-year-old. ****  
** **

"This is mortifying," He groans, prompting Harry to  laugh loudly against their hands. ****  
** **

"You're ridiculous." ****  
** **

"How come you're just mentioning this to me now?" ****  
** **

"I thought it wouldn't take you so long to do it. It's been there for months! I was waiting," Harry shrugs, and Louis groans louder. ****  
** **

"How long have you known about this?!" ****  
** **

"I don't know. Ten months, maybe?" Harry says, and Louis knows he isn't as unsure as he makes it sound. ****  
** **

Louis kicks his shin under the counter. "You little shit!" ****  
** **

"What?" Harry giggles louder. "How long have you had it?!" ****  
** **

"Ten months!" ****  
** **

"You've been keeping a ring for ten months and haven't proposed to me yet?" Harry frowns at him, but he's not really upset. "I can't believe you didn't propose on our first year together!"

Louis laughs out loud, then, throwing his head back because he can't believe how much he loves this man right in front of him, thinking the same thing as he does. ****  
** **

"I'm sorry, baby." ****  
** **

"You're terrible," Harry huffs. "What are you waiting for?" ****  
** **

"What?" Louis stares at him, heart racing. "You want me to propose  _ now _ ?" ****  
** **

"I've wanted you to propose for years. Get me that stupid ring and put it on my finger right now." ****  
** **

They stare at each other for a few seconds before it's Harry's turn to kick his shin under the counter, and Louis yelps, narrowing his eyes at his stupidly beautiful boyfriend. ****  
** **

Out of bravery, he stands up and runs to their bedroom, opening his stupid drawer of socks and searching for the red velvet box. He takes a deep breath once he finds it and runs back to the kitchen, finding Harry in the same sitting position, drumming his long fingers against his beautiful pink cheeks. ****  
** **

"Is this what you want?" Louis asks as he stands in front of him, raising the box on the palms of his right hand until it's right in front of Harry's face. "A ring?" ****  
** **

"I don't know. Is it diamond?" Harry raises one of his brows questioningly, and Louis narrows his eyes at him one more time, holding back his ridiculously huge grin. ****  
** **

"I'm sorry, I'm such a coward. I should've asked you to marry me on our first  _ week _ together," Louis tells him quietly, squeezing the box in a fist. ****  
** **

"You haven't asked me to marry you yet," Harry points out with a perky smile, and Louis huffs out a quiet laugh, nodding. ****  
** **

"Will you?" Louis steps in closer to him, standing between his legs. "Will you  _ please _ marry me? I wanna marry the shit out of you. I wanna marry you right  _ now _ . I wanna marry you tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that." ****  
** **

Harry is biting his bottom lip as in to keep from smiling too big, and Louis wants to kiss him all night long. "You're such a sap," he chuckles, and Louis raises his brows. "I love you so much. Yes, I  _ will _ marry you." ****  
** **

Louis sighs deeply as he feels his heart getting bigger, if that's even remotely possible. He opens the red velvet box and takes the silver ring with seven little diamonds surrounding it and slips it on Harry's left ring finger. His eyes actually water at the sight — of course, it's a perfect fit. Louis wants to scream at how happy he is. ****  
** **

"Seven diamonds?" Harry asks quietly as he stares at the ring on his finger. Louis notices there are a few tears rolling down his cheeks and he smiles softly, running his knuckles on them to dry it. ****  
** **

"That's how long we've been together, right?" ****  
** **

Harry smiles sweetly and looks up from the ring to lock his eyes with Louis'. They stare deeply at each other for a moment, blue on green, until Louis is done waiting and kisses Harry like his life depends on it — he doesn't waste time with pecks,  _ no _ , they've done their share of pecks enough for one night, so he kisses him  _ deeply.  _ He allows their tongues to meet like they haven't met each other for so damn long, and it's true, an entire day it's too long for Louis. He misses Harry all the time. ****  
** **

"It's beautiful, Lou," Harry breathes when they pull away for a brief moment, their lips still rubbing against each other as Harry speaks. "I love you so much." ****  
** **

Louis kisses him harder and deeper, and it's desperate. He loves Harry so much it actually makes his entire body light up like a Christmas tree, and it's always been like this, since day one. It only gets better and stronger. It feels like Louis loves Harry even more each day and it's crazy. Louis is crazy for him. ****  
** **

That's why he grabs one of Harry's hands with his own and pulls him to their bedroom, lightly pushing him to lie down on their bed while he takes off his shoes and hurries to climb on top of the love of his fucking life. ****  
** **

"I wanna propose to you again when I'm inside you," Louis pants after sucking a bruise on Harry's throat and earning a low moan out of those pretty plump lips. ****  
** **

"Fuck, yeah," Harry groans as he runs his hands through Louis' back underneath his shirt, bringing it up as he slides them up to Louis' shoulders. "Do it."

"I will." Louis kisses his lips hard and quick, kneeling between Harry's spread legs and pulling his shirt off to throw it on the floor next to the bed. ****  
** **

He hurries to slide Harry's sweatpants down his beautiful long legs and takes a deep breath once he looks at his crotch, his heart hammering against his chest as he watches his love's cock twitch under his boxers. ****  
** **

"Lou," Harry whines because he always wants more and more and more attention and Louis is always ready to give it to him. Louis is always ready to give him whatever it is that he wants. ****  
** **

"Yes, baby," Louis whispers as he leans back down to press his lips against Harry's softly, running his hands through his thighs. "I love you." ****  
** **

"Love you, too," Harry looks at him and hooks his fingers on the waistband of Louis' dark jeans and tugs it down, his eyes burning with lust. "Now,  _ off _ ." ****  
** **

"Yes, sir," Louis chuckles lowly and unbuttons his jeans, standing up from the bed to quickly pull it down along with his briefs. He hears Harry's low moan and looks at him with a knowing smile. "Eager much?" ****  
** **

"Just come over here already," Harry demands and, really, his wishes are actually Louis' command, so it isn't hard  _ at all  _ when he climbs back on top of Harry and steals a hard kiss from his pretty pink lips. "Want you." ****  
** **

Louis smiles through the kiss and blindly reaches for the first drawer of the bedside-table to his right, opening it and grabbing the medium sized bottle of lube, all the while kissing his  _ boy  _ as if his own life depends on it. And it probably does, really, since he feels like he might turn into dust if he goes by too much time without kissing him. ****  
** **

"Want you too, baby," Louis whispers against Harry's lips and Harry sighs deeply, arching his hips from the bed to make their cocks touch, looking for friction. "Patient." ****  
** **

"No," Harry grunts and slides one of his hands down his back to his bottom while the other finds its way to his cock, squeezing it lightly and making Louis roll his eyes back in pleasure. "No teasing." ****  
** **

"Really?" Louis leans his head back, pulling away from their kiss. He's actually surprised. "But you love to play." ****  
** **

And that's true — Harry is always up for playing and teasing; always looking forward to Louis' hand slapping against his asscheeks, and his lips sucking hard bruises all over his body while he just lies there, taking it all and listening to all the filthy things coming out of Louis' mouth. ****  
** **

"I do," Harry nods and squeezes Louis' cock one more time, making him gasp. "But I want you right now, so  _ please _ ." ****  
** **

Louis stares down at him for a moment, and when Harry moves his hand up and down twice, he's ready to wreck the hell out of him. "Fuck, okay," he breathes. ****  
** **

He knees in between Harry's spread legs and opens the bottle of lube while Harry watches him with a dirty smirk that makes him squirm and feel even hotter all over; he wets three of his fingers with enough lube and licks his lips when he puts the bottle down on the bed next to the outside of Harry's right leg. ****  
** **

"Turn around for me, baby," He asks quietly, his voice soft. ****  
** **

Harry stares at him with dark eyes for a moment before turning around to get on his stomach, swinging his left leg over Louis without touching him once. ****  
** **

"Touch me," He whispers as he looks over his shoulder, his eyes locking on to Louis'. ****  
** **

Louis nods and, without looking away, he slips one of his wet fingers down Harry's crack until he reaches his rim, circling it slowly to get the reaction he always gets from Harry whenever he's gentle like this at first. ****  
** **

Just like he wanted, Harry moans loudly and rolls his hips. Louis takes a deep breath and slides this one finger inside until he’s knuckle deep. He doesn't move at first, and he loves to see Harry getting impatient when he's so eager for it. ****  
** **

"I said no fucking teasing," Harry groans. Louis chuckles softly, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his shoulder before leaning back up, watching the muscles of his wide back spasm when he moves his finger inside. "Fuck. More, Lou." ****  
** **

Louis moves his single finger in and out three times before sliding one more on the fourth, earning a gasp from Harry, who's still looking at him over his shoulder and grabbing the sheets in his hands. ****  
** **

It doesn't take Louis long to add the third finger thrusting the three of them in and out of Harry, fucking him with quick and hard thrusts of his hand. "Lou — fuck. I'm ready. Jesus. I'm ready," Harry lets Louis knows between a loud and long moan when he keeps his fingers inside for a moment, flicking them over Harry's prostate. ****  
** **

"Yeah?" ****  
** **

"Yes.  _ Yes _ ," Harry moans once again, reaching his left hand to his back and gripping Louis' wrist hard, demanding him to stop. ****  
** **

"Okay, baby. Whatever you want." ****  
** **

" _ You _ . I want you. Right the fuck now." ****  
** **

Louis chuckles as he slips his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets. "Do you want me from behind?" he asks in a whisper when he's leaned in enough to press his mouth against Harry's ear, his cock pressed against Harry's ass so deliciously that he just wants to press harder and be  _ inside _ . ****  
** **

Harry nods, seems incapable of saying anything since he's too busy making these sounds that go straight to Louis cock, making him harder and out of his damn mind. ****  
** **

"Hands and knees then, love," Louis instructs after backing away. "Wanna see you arching that lovely back of yours while I fuck you." ****  
** **

Harry groans loudly at Louis' words and is quick to do as he's told, supporting his body on his hands and knees, wiggling his cute little ass to Louis, who's staring at it hungrily. ****  
** **

"Fuck me, then," Harry says against his shoulder, as he's looking at Louis over it, always so attentive and interested in all his reactions to everything he does and says. "Or should I say: make love to me?" ****  
** **

Louis' eyes snap up to Harry's, seeing him smiling. He smiles back at him, amusedly.

"You know, since we're engaged and all that." ****  
** **

Louis throws his head back laughing and grabs Harry by the hips, squeezing them hard. "I'll fuck  _ and _ make love to you at the same time if that's what you want." ****  
** **

"Mmmm, my superman," Harry hums and closes his eyes in pleasure when Louis slides two fingers inside him one more time before taking them out and running his cock passed his crack and rim. ****  
** **

He lets his eyes wander over Harry's beautiful back and fixes them where they're now most intimate to watch his cock slides into Harry's tight hole, bit by bit, until he's all the way in, hearing his love's soft moans as he does so. ****  
** **

"So tight," Louis states in a grunt, not moving yet. "No matter how many times we do this. You're always so fucking tight." ****  
** **

"Lou.  _ Move _ ," Harry whines when he moves his ass back against Louis' hips, making Louis groan at the deep sensation of his cock deep into him. "Please." ****  
** **

"Okay, baby," Louis breathes and pulls out slowly, only to slam back in again, this time hard. "Like this?" ****  
** **

"Yeah," Harry moans and Louis sees him nodding, his messy long hair falling to his face. "Yeah, fuck. Fuck me." ****  
** **

"Didn't you tell me to make love to you?" Louis reminds him playfully, pulling out again to start moving in and out with a slow pace but hard thrusts. ****  
** **

"We do that already," Harry tells him in a whiny tone. "Don't need to do that  _ now _ ." ****  
** **

Louis runs his hands along Harry's ass and back, moaning at the feeling of his smooth skin under his palms, and his cock going in and in and  _ in _ . "What do you want, then?" ****  
** **

"For you to fucking  _ move _ ." ****  
** **

Louis chuckles hoarsely. "I am," he says and slows his pace down, only to hear Harry whine in complaint. He smirks amusedly. ****  
** **

"You're not," Harry huffs and slams his ass back against Louis' slow thrust. Louis moans loud with the movement. "Seems like a virgin who's scared to fuck." ****  
** **

"Oh, really?" Louis asks and slams his hips hard against Harry's ass and doesn't give him a fucking break. ****  
** **

He starts on a quick pace that makes his muscles burn from how good it feels, the sound of skin to skin makes him wild, and the sight of his cock going in and then out of Harry's pretty hole makes him roll his eyes back in so much pleasure that he could come right then. He doesn't, though, and thinks of giving it all to Harry until he's wrecked before he's ever done. ****  
** **

"Want you to marry me," He says all of sudden, running his hand over Harry's back until he reaches his hair, pulling him up by it, so he's up with his back against Louis' front. "Want you to marry me and make you the happiest and most satisfied man to live on earth." ****  
** **

Harry moans loudly, then, even louder than before, and reaches his hands back to grab Louis by his bottom, squeezing his asscheeks as hard as he can. "I want that too," he grunts and rests his head back against Louis' shoulder. "So much." ****  
** **

Louis releases his hair to let his hands wander over Harry's torso and play with his hard nipples, pinching them roughly just to earn a quiet whine from Harry. ****  
** **

"Will you?" He asks then, even though he already has the answer. Doing that while he's got his cock filling Harry so nicely and hotly feels different, though. "Will you marry me, baby?" ****  
** **

"I will," Harry sobs as Louis hardens his thrusts, and it feels crazy. They are crazy. Louis' legs are burning, and he feels like his bones and muscles could melt at any minute now due to the lava in his veins. His cock is so hard, he feels like he's going to explode. "I will.  _ I will _ . I want to so bad. I love you so much." ****  
** **

Louis runs one of his hands up through Harry's chest and neck until he's got two fingers inside Harry's mouth, and it takes zero seconds for him to start sucking on them like he's got nothing else he would rather be doing. Louis licks his neck and bites on it hard, making him squirm and roll his hips along with Louis' hard thrusts. ****  
** **

"You're so fucking hot," Louis moans against his neck as he runs his free hand down and grabs Harry's cock, tugging it slowly until he's jerking him off at the same pace as his thrusts. "So hot. I love you so much. You're the love of my fucking life." ****  
** **

Harry sobs loudly when his load explodes on Louis' hands and down on the sheets, and then he's actually crying. Louis kisses him softly on his neck and shoulder,  his thrusts getting clumsy. and he's in paradise. Then it all feels like heaven because he's coming, and there's nothing better in the world than coming inside the love of his life. There's nothing he would rather be doing than filling his boy up. ****  
** **

He lets them both fall down to the bed on their sides, with Louis still inside him as they cuddle and take deep breaths. He hears Harry sobbing quietly and wraps one of his arms around his waist, pulling his cock out of him slowly. ****  
** **

"Are you okay, love?" ****  
** **

"Yeah," Harry responds with a shaky breath and grabs Louis' hand, squeezing it so tight it actually hurts for a moment. "Was this our best fuck ever?" ****  
** **

Louis laughs out loud then, his chest vibrating against Harry's back. He kisses his shoulder softly and bites it lightly. "Was it?" ****  
** **

"I don't know. All our fucks are always the best ones ever for me, but this was...pretty intense," Harry turns around slowly, so he's facing Louis, pecking his lips softly and quickly. ****  
** **

"It's always intense with you, baby," Louis tells him honestly and sees Harry smile in return.

"Can't believe you've finally proposed." ****  
** **

Louis grins and pulls Harry in by his waste for a quick but deep kiss. "Gonna marry you so hard." ****  
** **

"What? Please don't get hard during our wedding ceremony." ****  
** **

Louis laughs so loud Harry pinches his hips, making him squirm. "You're such a little shit," he says as he keeps laughing, freely. **  
**

** That's how Harry makes him feel —  _ free _ .   
**


	3. Chapter 3

**CAN'T BREATHE WHENEVER YOU'RE GONE**

 

It's been four days since Harry has seen Louis, and he can't stop dreaming about him, it's been happening ever since. The same dream over and over. The only actual difference is that it's no longer the one he has been having for the last few weeks before seeing Louis one more time. ****  
** **

This one is always the same — there's Louis smiling at him with his pretty lips and white teeth, holding out a ring for him as his soothing and soft voice ask him to be his partner forever, and of course, there's Harry smiling back at him and saying a thousand yeses. But then there's Louis crying, telling him that they can't be together, and he's saying all these things in a whisper because he's scared someone might hear them, and there's Harry confused because he doesn't understand what and why this is happening. Then there's Louis not able to say a thing because the next thing they know, there's a person wearing all black coming through the door and taking Louis away. Harry can't see this person's face; he can't even move. When he's about to scream for help, though, he wakes up abruptly. ****  
** **

Then there's Harry in his bed, like this very moment, alone just like he has been all the other times ever since Louis has disappeared on him. ****  
** **

He can hear the coffee machine running in the kitchen while someone opens and closes the cupboard to probably get a mug or something. For a sad moment, Harry thinks it's Louis out there, making them coffee because he's always the one to wake up first, even though he's usually the one to go to sleep the latest. Then he's slapped across the face with his reality as he remembers it's his sister in his kitchen, probably making them breakfast because she's an actual angel in his life. It breaks his heart that he's sad it's not Louis instead, because she's doing the best she can to make him feel better. ****  
** **

He looks at the clock to his left on the bedside table and sighs as he sees it's past nine a.m, relieved that he's taken a couple of days off and happy to have Sarah to cover for him for a week — he reminds himself to give her a call by lunchtime, he hasn't properly talked to her ever since that eventful night, three days ago. ****  
** **

Harry stands up from his bed and quietly walks to the bathroom, sighing deeply as he stares at the pictures in the mirror. He doesn't take them down, not this time. Probably not ever. Why would he, now? Louis said he would come back, _right?_ ****  
** **

After turning the shower on, he takes his time to brush his teeth and take a piss while he waits for the water to warm up. He doesn't let it get too hot this time around; doesn't let the water burn his skin red until it's itchy, and he would even feel proud of himself if it wasn't for the sinking hole widening in his chest. He doesn't remember ever feeling like this; doesn't remember feeling this alone even with all the people around him to help him through this kind of situation. ****  
** **

It doesn't bother him when the hot water runs out, being replaced by the cold that hits his skin and makes him chill from head to toes. He stays there, under the shower, letting the now cold water wash away all this emptiness and all this _nothing_ that he can't seem to get rid of. He doesn't know how long he stays this way until he hears his sister knocking on the bathroom's door. ****  
** **

"Harry?" She calls for him with worry in her voice. "Are you okay? You've been there a long time now." ****  
** **

He blinks quickly and turns the shower off, getting his towel to wrap around his hips. At least he didn't cry. Not this time, anyway. ****  
** **

"Sorry," He tells her when he opens the door with a whoosh, looking at her apologetically. "You know how I get when I'm sleepy," It's a lie, of course. He's just woken up. He's usually a morning person, and she knows that. ****  
** **

"Yeah...I know," She says uneasily, but he's happy she doesn't dig into his lie. She lets him be. "Breakfast is ready. I'll wait for you to change so we can eat together." ****  
** **

"Thanks." He says and watches her walk away, closing his bedroom door behind her. ****  
** **

He sighs once again, running his hand through his wet hair as he walks back into his room, making his way to his wardrobe. He chooses to grab his most comfortable clothes, getting one of his black sweatpants and briefs from his bottom drawers. He looks over to the drawers next to his own and bites his bottom lip, regretfully opening the first drawer and grabbing Louis' favorite Spider-Man sweatshirt, one that Harry complained so much when they went into a comics store, and Louis paid ninety bucks for it. Harry squeezes it in his hands and swallows dry, walking to his bed and dropping the clothes on it, staring at the sweatshirt while he dries himself with the towel. ****  
** **

Before he can consider what he's doing is quite irrational, since the sweatshirt is a bit tight on him and the fact that it belongs to Louis can make him hurt _more_ , he puts it over his head and arms after quickly pulling his briefs and sweatpants over his legs, running his hands over the printed Spider-Man in the front. ****  
** **

He sighs heavily and makes his way to the kitchen to find his sister sitting by the counter with a mug in one hand, and her phone in the other. ****  
** **

"Morning," He grumbles as he grabs himself a mug a pours coffee in it. "Sorry for taking so long." ****  
** **

"It's okay," She tells him softly, and he knows she's watching his every move. He doesn't meet her eyes, though. Not yet. "I made you toast and eggs. It's over here." ****  
** **

"Thank you," He sits down next to her, a plate with a crunchy toast and scrambled eggs in front of him. ****  
** **

They eat in silence for a while, his sister's eyes on him the whole time until she's probably had enough of his sunken silence and leaves her toast on her plate to place one of her hands on his knee, squeezing it lightly. He holds his breath because he isn't _ready_ for this. ****  
** **

"Talk to me, Harry. _Please_ ," She asks him, just like she did on Saturday afternoon, after receiving a very desperate call from a very desperate Harry in the middle of the night, after Louis was gone. Harry has yet to talk about it because he simply doesn't want to. He doesn't know what to say, what he's _allowed_ to say. Louis left him hanging, and he's in _pain_ . "I know you're hurt because...I mean. I _know_ . But this is different. What happened? Why were you crying like that when you called me on Friday night?" ****  
** **

He swallows dry and looks up at her, eyes wide as she frowns at him, worried and confused. It hurts him that he's making her feel like that. She's so beautiful when she smiles, and he hasn't made her smile in ages. It hurts him even more to think about the worry he's making his family feel. ****  
** **

"Gemma, I —" He shakes his head and runs his hands through his face. She squeezes his knee one more time, silently telling him that it's _okay_ . "I just feel...overwhelmed. I think. I don't know what to do, and I feel so alone all the fucking time. I don't even know if this is sadness anymore." ****  
** **

It's true, at least. _This_ he can say. He's not lying. She's one of the few people who can make him feel slightly at home again, even though it won't ever be the same way as Louis does. ****  
** **

"I just...I needed you. I _need_ you. I can't call mom because she's all the way home. I can't ask her to fly here all the way from Saint Paul. It's too far away, and she's got Nana to care for,"

Gemma nods her head understandingly and reaches for his left hand with her free one, holding it tight. "You know she'd fly here in no time. I'm sure she'd bring Nana, and it would all be okay. You can go there too, you know." ****  
** **

"I _can't_ ." He shakes his head one more time. _What if Louis comes back?_ He wants to scream. "I can't leave. I have to stay here," _What if he comes back again?_ ****  
** **

_"_ Harry —" ****  
** **

"No, Gemma. No, okay? I'm not going to Saint Paul." ****  
** **

"Come to Chicago with me for a couple of days, then. Just for the rest of your break. How about this? You took some days off, right? Until Friday?" She asks, and he nods. "See, it works out just fine. You love Chicago." ****  
** **

_I love Chicago with Louis_ , he wants to shout to make her understand. ****  
** **

"It's best if I stay here. Sarah may need me, it's too much work. I should just go back tomorrow or something." Harry says and takes his hand away from his sister's, running it through his hair. He can't stand the thought of his boss letting him take these days off out of pity because he knows how miserable and depressive he's been. "There's too much to do." ****  
** **

"Don't be stupid," Gemma frowns. "Take these days off and make good use out of it. Sleep, eat. Have a little bit of fun. You're allowed to, you know?” ****  
** **

Harry chuckles bitterly, and she looks at him sadly. "How am I supposed to —", he starts but doesn't even have the strength to finish. He sighs deeply and looks away from her. "I don't want to. Have fun, I mean. I wanna stay home and sleep." ****  
** **

"Harry, please. I hate seeing you like this." ****  
** **

"I can't even wear the ring anymore, you know," He confesses like it's a secret and Gemma presses her lips tight together, staring at him as she waits for him to continue. She knows him too well. "Like...how sick is this? We were gonna get married by the end of this month and now..." He crosses his arms over his chest, feeling her squeeze his knee once again. "Like, it's unfair, right? Why should I wear the ring? It hurts too much. It hurts to wear this hideous sweatshirt, for fuck's sake. I hid the ring deep into one of his drawers, but I think about it every day." ****  
** **

"Harry," He looks at her at the sound of his name coming out of her mouth in a sad whisper. She's looking at him with careful eyes. "They'll find him." ****  
** **

Harry wants to tell her about Friday night, he needs to tell her. He probably should, but Louis' voice pleading him not to tell anyone about it sounds like an alarm in his head. ****  
** **

"Yeah," He murmurs instead. "Jake told me they're doing everything they can." ****  
** **

She smiles weakly at him. "How about we go out tonight? We can ask them to join us. It'll be good for you to be around his friends. Plus, I really like Kristen's girlfriend whose name I always forget." ****  
** **

"Ashley," He provides with a small quiet chuckle. "I don't know, Gems." ****  
** **

"Please? I know it's Tuesday, but _come on_ . Call them. Tell Mitch and Sarah, too." ****  
** **

He narrows his eyes at her. "You know Mitch is kinda in love with Sarah," he reminds her, and she shrugs. ****  
** **

"Doesn't stop me from checking him out. He's hot." ****  
** **

He smiles amusedly and genuinely for the first time this morning. He can never _not_ be amused by how much his sister would like to hook up with his best friend Mitch, and how many times she's made sure to tell him that over his years of friendship with him. ****  
** **

"Fine," He finally agrees with a deep sigh. "There's this cool bar next to Sarah's house. We can go there, the owner is pretty nice." ****  
** **

"Yay!" She leans in so she can kiss his cheek. "No drinking, though. I mean, not so much. Don't want you going to the Precinct to yell at everyone again." ****  
** **

He widens his eyes at her. "What?" ****  
** **

"You think Jake didn't tell me?" She crosses her arms over her chest with an incisive expression. ****  
** **

"God. I always forget that you've had sex with him before." ****  
** **

"Get over it, it's been three years," She rolls her eyes. ****  
** **

"Yet he still has your number and _texts_ you."  ****  
** **

"He called me," She corrects him, and he raises his brows. "To let me know you weren't well! He was really worried, and so was I!" ****  
** **

"Please, don't bang him again," He pleads dramatically, so she slaps his arm roughly. ****  
** **

It kind of hurts like a bitch, but at least she manages to get a genuine smile out of him one more time.

****

***

****

Harry is sitting between Gemma and Sarah while Mitch's got an arm on the edge of her chair and Jake is sitting across from him with Kristen between Anne and him, all of them in a booth at Niall's bar. ****  
** **

He tries to pretend there isn't someone missing right there that leaves his heart empty, and it's hard enough already, which is why he's so quiet. All of his friends and his sister notice it, but all of them are thoughtful enough not to make a comment on it at any time. Well, except for Kristen who keeps looking at him with those sharp green eyes that always seem to know what the heck is going on. ****  
** **

"Be honest, Sarah, if you were to write about any of us great cops, who would it be?" Jake is asking Sarah one more time, Harry notices when he blinks out of his brief daze and looks around his friends, trying his best not to lock eyes with Kristen. ****  
** **

"Why would I even write about any of you?" Sarah scoffs and takes a sip of her pink drink that Harry has no idea what it is. "I'd write about a superhero or something. They're better than you are," She says with an amused smile. "Not you, Kris and Anne. You're great." ****  
** **

"Hey! That's quite rude. You journalists, always think you're better than the rest of the world." Jake grabs one of the chicken wings they ordered and points it at Sarah. "Worst than attorneys!" ****  
** **

"How dare you," Sarah narrows her eyes at him and everyone at the table laughs, Harry included, even if it's so short and quiet. "I'll write an article about you that's so bad you'll wish you've never met me." ****  
** **

"Harry and Mitch would never do that to me," Jake sighs dramatically and takes a bite of the wing. ****  
** **

"I'm not a journalist, though," Mitch states like it's obvious and everyone looks at him with curious eyes. Harry bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "You do know what my job is, right?" ****  
** **

"Um..." Sarah blinks at him and Harry can't really help but chuckle quietly. He's probably the only one who ever remembers what Mitch does for a living. "You're a...computer man?" ****  
** **

Mitch frowns at her causing Harry to laugh for real, and it feels so good. Gemma is smiling softly at his reaction then, placing one of her hands on his knee and squeezing it lightly. ****  
** **

"What the fuck is a computer man, Sarah?!" Mitch demands, outrageously. ****  
** **

"I don't know! You, like, work with it, right?" ****  
** **

"I can't believe this. You've known me for years, and you don't know what my job is?" He sighs exasperatedly looking at Jake. "Jake, you do, right? We've known each other as long as you've known Harry." ****  
** **

"Uh, yeah, sure," Jake nods slowly with widened eyes, turning his head to look at Anne as if silently asking for help. ****  
** **

"Oh, my God!" ****  
** **

"Mitch, I don't think anyone knows what you do for a living," Harry says eventually with a hint of laughter in his voice. ****  
** **

"They should!" Mitch frowns and gulps down the rest of his beer. "You know, right? I'll kill you if you don't." ****  
** **

"Of course I do," He chuckles. ****  
** **

"I'm a C G Artist, you assholes!" ****  
** **

"What the fuck is that?" Gemma asks, voice shaking with how much she's now laughing. ****  
** **

"I make 3D drawings?! How do you not know this?!" ****  
** **

"So, like...you make drawings on your computer?" Sarah asks, and Harry can see she's holding herself back from laughing. ****  
** **

"Um, yes? But, like, realistic drawings that actually look like pictures and —" ****  
** **

"Computer man, then." ****  
** **

Everyone at the table, except Mitch, burst out laughing. Even Harry, again, and it feels so good. ****  
** **

He looks around at his friends with a small smile on his face, and unfortunately, it doesn't take long for him to feel that pang in his chest again. He should be here, he thinks to himself. It's so unfair that Louis can't be there. It's so unfair that he didn't let Harry decide what would be best for himself. ****  
** **

He's kind of angry, right then. ****  
** **

Louis should have let him have a say in this situation, right? It's their life. He should have known. It isn't what's best for him to be without Louis, he's miserable all the time. They should be together. Doesn't Louis know that Harry would run away with him, hide with him? He would go to the end of the world if it meant they would still be together. How can Louis not know this? How can he leave Harry behind to deal with the emptiness he's left when he decided he couldn't be with Harry anymore? ****  
** **

It isn't a surprise when he's quiet once again, and it also doesn't surprise him that Kristen is looking at him one more time, she probably already knows what's inside his head. ****  
** **

He avoids her eyes at any costs and sighs deeply when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. _Weird_ , it's what he thinks. Everyone that would text him is sitting at this table, except...Right. Okay. He widens his eyes and nudges Gemma to move over so he can get the fuck out of there and check if it is who he thinks it is. His heart is beating so fast and his mind running so wild that he doesn't even notice when Gemma frowns at him worriedly as she stands up to let him pass, nor does he notice everyone go quiet to watch him stand up and make his way to the restroom.

****

As soon as he's in the men's restroom and safely locked inside one of the bathroom stall, he grabs his phone from his pocket and unlocks the screen without even seeing the text notification. When he opens it, though, he feels his heart sinking so deep it actually takes his breath away. He feels like he can't breathe for a moment and he can't even understand a thing. ****  
** **

It's from an unknown number, but with what it's been sent to him...it could never be Louis. Unless it's a sick joke or something, but Harry knows Louis would never do this, especially after telling him they can't see or even talk to each other at all. This isn't Louis, this is someone Harry wants to find and make them stop so Louis can come back to him. This is someone cruel, and Harry _can't breathe_ . ****  
** **

He can't really understand what it's going on until he reads the message for the fourth time. ****  
** **

_Tell your little boyfriend to open his eyes_ , it's what it says at first, and his heart beats so fast it could explode his chest at any minute now, _well, that if you can get to him before me._ ****  
** **

And, _no_ , he screams in his mind. This isn't something someone does. This is mean. This is pure cruelty. Harry doesn't know what to do, and he can't stop staring at his phone with eyes so wide they feel dry from how long he hasn't blinked. This is...what does he do? He doesn't know if he should type a response or if he should block the number. He's got a bunch of detective friends just a few feet away and doesn't even know if it would be the right thing to do to tell them about this. Louis told him not to, even though Kristen already knows about the situation. ****  
** **

Right. Kristen. He should ask her for help, right? She should know what to do. ****  
** **

He can't even move, though. He can't stop thinking about what this person means with this ridiculously cruel message, and he can't stop thinking about Louis. How could he do this to Harry? He should have never let him walk away from their apartment. Harry should have held on to him tight and told him to fucking stay. This isn't how they do things. They don't deal with stuff apart. They stick together because that's how they work. Harry can't work without Louis, he doesn't know what to fucking do. ****  
** **

So, yeah, he might be having a panic attack right now because his chest is tight. So tight. This stall is too small, and, suddenly, he feels too big to fit in this bathroom and in this restaurant and in this fucking city that he wishes he would have never come to. He wants to leave and never come back. He wants to leave as soon as he remembers how to breathe. He wants to find Louis. ****  
** **

God, _Louis_ . ****  
** **

_Louis, Louis, Louis._ ****  
** **

This is bad, this is really bad. ****  
** **

Harry has the sudden urge to go back to his place and grab the ring from Louis' drawer and put it back on his finger because that's where it should be. Why did he even take it off? This is terrible. Harry is going to die, and he won't be even wearing the fucking ring. He needs Louis. He _needs_ him. Harry needs him so much it hurts. Everything hurts. What if _Louis_ is hurt? What if he isn't, but they're not fast enough to find him yet he ends up getting hurt anyway? Jesus, Harry can't breathe. _He can't breathe_ . ****  
** **

Why did Louis do this to him? How could he walk away without telling Harry where he would go, and where he's been all this time? How could he have been so cruel? Louis is cruel. He shouldn't have left Harry to deal with this by himself, they should have found a way together. How is Harry supposed to go on from this? What is he supposed to do with this text? ****  
** **

He's gasping, and he isn't even holding his phone anymore, given that it's now splattered on the floor between his feet. He's sitting on the toilet, hands gripping his knees so tight it hurts. He's sweating so much he feels like he's run a whole marathon without even running at all. ****  
** **

"Harry?" He hears Kristen's voice, and he panics even more because she isn't supposed to see him panic. She isn't even supposed to be in the men's restroom, for crying out loud. "Harry, are you alright? You've been in there a while." ****  
** **

He would answer her, really. He would. Only if it wasn't for his breath stuck in his throat, and his chest so tight he can almost feel his heart stopping. He struggles to unlock the door to his stall but manages to do it, and soon enough Kristen is right there in front of him, looking down at him worriedly. ****  
** **

"Harry, Jesus," She kneels in front of him. "What's going on? Should I call Gemma?" ****  
** **

He shakes his head frantically. _No, please_ , he pleads silently. She deserves better than to see him like this. He should be strong enough to stop this himself. ****  
** **

"God. Is this a panic attack?" She asks knowingly, and he wonders if Louis ever told her about these, since it isn't something that's happening for the first time. He nods. "Right. Okay. Just...listen to my voice, okay? I'm gonna hold your wrists, is that okay? My hands are warm," He nods one more time, and she wraps her soft hands around his wrists. "Listen to my voice, alright? This is important, I need your help. I'll tell you something, and you need to pay attention because I need your help." ****  
** **

He's nodding again. He doesn't even know what she's doing but she's got her _indeed_ warm hands around his wrists, and she's looking right into his eyes. His mouth is dry. He needs water, so he can't even really promise to listen to her entirely because he's so fucking thirsty. He needs water, and he needs to _leave_ . He tries to stand up, but she keeps her hands firmly around his wrists and thus keeps him seated. ****  
** **

"I need you to listen, Harry," She tells him again, and he wants to cry. "I know you're really good at decorating and you really like this stuff, and see, I really need your help. I'm gonna ask Ashley to move in with me but my apartment is a mess and my walls are all green, you know? She hates green. Her favorite color is orange, and I have nothing in orange. If I paint my walls this color then all my stuff will be out of place because it won't fit in. And I was wondering if you could help me, you know? You're so great at this. I love your apartment. Louis once told me that you were the one to decide where everything would go, and he loved it so much. He loves it. I want Ashley to love mine as much as Louis loves yours, because you're so good at this. Could you help me? I remember you saying that I positioned my couch the wrong way, and I would love if you could show me what would make it look better in the living room."

He can feel himself starting to breathe easily one more time as his heart slows down, and his hands stop shaking.  ****  
** **

"Maybe I'll paint my walls white and buy an orange couch, that would be cool, right? God, can you imagine if I actually got an orange couch? Louis would make fun of me for the rest of our lives," She smiles lightly, and he can feel his eyes water at the mention of Louis' name. At least he can properly breathe, and his chest doesn't hurt anymore. "You okay?" ****  
** **

Harry takes a deep shaky breath and nods slowly, blinking his tears away.  ****  
** **

"You scared me," Kristen tells him quietly. ****  
** **

"Sorry," He sighs and runs his hands over his sweaty face.  ****  
** **

"What happened, Harry?" She asks him carefully and he looks at her, thoughtful. He should definitely tell her, right? She _knows_ why Louis is gone so there's no reason why he would keep this from her. He needs to share this with someone, otherwise, he'll go insane. ****  
** **

"I got a text from an unknown number," He confesses in a whisper and watches her face turn into worry when she frowns. "At first I thought it'd be Louis, you know, because of last Friday and I really hoped he would —" ****  
** **

"Wait," She stops him and he bites his bottom lip nervously. "What about last Friday? You mean when you went to the Precinct?" ****  
** **

Harry frowns at her then, confusedly. "I mean when Louis went to our place and told me everything. Well, told me enough. I guess. That's why I thought it was —" ****  
** **

"Louis did what?!" She shouts-whispers and he widens his eyes. ****  
** **

"You...you didn't know?" He questions with a weak voice and she looks livid. With her bright green eyes and short blond hair to match, she looks scary as fuck.  ****  
** **

"No, I did not. I can't believe this," She shakes her head in disbelief. "How come you're only telling me about this now? Why didn't you call me?" ****  
** **

"I didn't know what to do!" He grits. "I thought you knew, anyway. He told me you know what's going on." ****  
** **

Kristen sighs loudly before standing up and placing her hands on her hips, eyes never leaving Harry's as she seems to be in deep thoughts. "What did they text you?" she asks finally. ****  
** **

He grabs his phone from the floor and unlocks it before handing it to her. She reads the message a couple of times before looking back at Harry with worry in her eyes.  ****  
** **

"What do I do?" He asks her in a small voice as his eyes start watering once again.  ****  
** **

"We're gonna work on this together," She tells him confidently and he nods weakly. "God, I'm glad you know about this. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you anything." ****  
** **

"What if he's hurt?" ****  
** **

"He's not. We're gonna find who's behind all of this and help him," she says. "I'm a great detective, and you're a great journalist who can find all the dirt. We can do this. Plus, Captain Weber knows about this too, he's been helping me." ****  
** **

"Do you know where he is now? Louis? Is there a way that I can...I need to talk to him, Kristen." He chokes on a gasp, and she places a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. "I'm losing my mind." ****  
** **

"I have a lead on one of this mafia's perps, and I'm going after him tomorrow to get some answers. I'll bust him and take him to the Precinct. You can wait for me there and watch me interrogate him if you'd like. You're off of work this week, right? We can work together." ****  
** **

He swallows dry and nods. "Okay." ****  
** **

"In the meantime, we can try to track this unknown number that texted you." ****  
** **

"Right." He nods again. "I need to talk to him," He repeats because he knows Kristen is ignoring it, but he needs her to acknowledge his desperation. "I need to talk to Louis, Kristen." ****  
** **

"He's the one who contacts us, Harry," She admits with a sad frown, and he slumps his shoulders in defeat, looking down at his hands. "You're gonna spend a lot of time with me this week, maybe he'll call when you are with me." ****  
** **

"Okay," He sighs deeply. "Thank you, Kris." ****  
** **

"Any time, Haz. You know that," She pulls him in for a hug and squeezes her arms around his shoulders. He tries his best not to burst out crying. "This asshole who's sent you this stupid text...we'll find them. I promise. They won't do shit to Louis because we're gonna find all of them." ****  
** **

"Louis was gonna ask you to be his best-woman, you know?" He tells her with a weak smile when she pulls away and opens the stall door, stepping out of it. "We were gonna get married at the end of this month. The invitations were ready." ****  
** **

They stop in the middle of the restroom, and Harry is glad there's no one there at the moment. Kristen is looking up at him with sad eyes. ****  
** **

"I'm sorry, Harry." ****  
** **

"It's just..." He runs the back of his right hand against his forehead. "I miss him so much and I can't stop thinking about him, if he's okay. I hate him for leaving me in the dark like this." ****  
** **

"Don't," She reaches out for his other hand and squeezes it reassuringly. "He didn't tell you anything before to protect you, and he still shouldn't have said anything." ****  
** **

"Protect me from what, exactly?" He asks. "He didn't explain shit to me." ****  
** **

"These people were threatening you, Harry. Sending him texts just like this one you got. They want him to turn himself in or something. It's absurd." ****  
** **

He blinks quickly, heart racing. "God," he breathes. "What the hell." ****  
** **

"Look, we'll find a way to put these assholes in jail, and Louis will be fine, okay? We'll work on this together, and he'll be fine. Now, please, take a deep breath and let's get out of this bathroom because it smells terrible." ****  
** **

"Okay," He agrees with a nod and then Kristen is pulling him out of the restroom and back to their table.  ****  
** **

Harry notices the worried glances he gets from his friends and sister but is relieved when no one says anything about how long he spent in the bathroom. Gemma and Sarah hold his hands under the table comfortingly and, for that moment, he feels safe. ****  
** **

"More drinks for the party people?" They all look up to see Niall standing there with three more large bottles of beer, a wide grin on his face. ****  
** **

Harry notices the way Gemma's eyes linger on him, just as he notices Niall doing the same to her. He smiles weakly, but amusedly at the scene and turns to look at Sarah, who's very aware of the same thing. He sees Kristen next to Anne, smiling at the scene in front of them as well. ****  
** **

"Damn. She wastes no time," Sarah whispers to him and he nods, chuckling quietly. ****  
** **

"You should learn something from her," He tells her and earns an angry frown directed at him. ****  
** **

"I'm right here, you know," Gemma leans into Harry after watching Niall walk away, so she can properly listen to them talk. Sarah laughs quietly as Harry raises his brows at his sister. "He's hot. I want him." ****  
** **

"God. Jake is right there, you're gonna make him jealous." Harry mutters, and Gemma narrows his eyes at him.  ****  
** **

"Jake's in love with Anne, dumbass." ****  
** **

"Is he?" He asks with arched brows, surprised. ****  
** **

"Seems like it," Kristen nods with Gemma’s shrug. ****  
** **

"I'm gonna go talk to the Irish dude," Gemma states. ****  
** **

"His name is Niall," Sarah tells her with an amused smile, and Harry rolls his eyes. "Get him, girl." ****  
** **

"You're probably, like, three years older than him." ****  
** **

"So what!" She scoffs and stands up after gulping down the last bit of her drink. "See you later, dicks!" ****  
** **

"Where did she go?" Mitch asks, tuning out of his conversation with Jake and Anne. ****  
** **

"To get laid," Kristen answers him, and Sarah laughs out loud. ****  
** **

"Gross," Harry grimaces. "Where's Ash, anyway?" He looks at Kristen. ****  
** **

"Said she has too much work to do." ****  
** **

"Oh. That's too bad," Mitch says. "I haven't seen her since the last time we all got drunk together. It's been a couple of months." ****  
** **

"She'll join us next time." Kristen smiles. ****  
** **

"Are you okay?" Sarah asks Harry with a squeeze in his hand. He looks at her fondly. ****  
** **

"I'm fine now," He tells her with a shrug and turns to look at Kristen, sending her a small smile. ****  
** **

"We'll find him," She mouths at him when Sarah turns around to talk to Mitch about something Harry doesn't care about. ****  
** **

"Thanks," He mouths right back at her. ****  
** **

He just hopes, for the sake of his own sanity, that she's right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for the love so far! this is a short chapter but it's essential anyways. 
> 
> I'd also like to thank @Wicked_Archer (on Twitter) for helping me and editing my chapters so they're awesome for you all (she's been writing something that you will all love and I honestly can't wait for her to post it!)
> 
> anyway, thank you! until the next chapter! <3

**US AGAINST THE WORLD**

 

**_Louis, three months ago_ **

It's two days after Louis proposes to Harry when they actually start talking about how and when they want their wedding to be. It's no surprise when they decide it's going to happen by the end of June, since it's a great time of the year and not all venues and ballrooms are going to be booked up — they're mostly booked when Summer really sets, especially the ones with a great outside area. Louis wants _those_.

So when Louis steps inside the Precinct with the biggest smile on his face after the greatest morning of all (with a lot of big decisions and sweet kisses and great sex), he doesn't care about Kristen's annoyed glare — she always knows when he's freshly fucked in the morning because it's always written all over his face. Plus, giving that she already knows he proposed two nights ago, it's probably why she's looking at him like that.

"Morning, Jake. Morning, Anne," He points at his friends as he makes his way to his desk.

"God, you're way too happy, and it's not even nine," Kristen says when he sits in his chair and grins at her from his spot across from her. "It's way too contagious," She chuckles while looking at him. "Look. I can't stop smiling just from looking at you."

"Good morning, Kristen," He leans against the chair backrest. "I've had a great morning, it's all."

"Ew," She grimaces, still smiling. "Disgusting."

"June. Save the month," He tells her with a smile, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "Not the date yet, because we don't have it."

"June? A-ha, cliche bitch!" She points a finger at him with a laugh, and he raises his brows at her. "That's when everyone gets married."

"You're getting married?" He hears Jake's voice and turns his head to look at him. "Why are we only hearing about this now?!"

Louis looks back at Kristen to glare at her for a brief moment before giving his attention back to Jake, who's now walking towards him with Anne by his side.

"It's only been two days. I was gonna tell you when we had everything solved."

"Bullshit! Tell us _everything_!" Jake shrieks, and Louis rolls his eyes. Anne laughs quietly while Kristen bites her bottom lip to keep from laughing too hard.

"What is there to say? I proposed, that's it," Louis states with a shrug, and Jake narrows his eyes at him.

"And then you had a lot of s-e-x?"

Louis stares at him, blankly. "Why did you just spell the word sex?"

"Felt right," Jake shrugs, and Anne is still laughing beside him.

Louis narrows his eyes at her — she thinks he can't see how into Jake she _really_ is. What he's said is not even that amusing, and yet she's laughing as if it's the funniest thing she's ever heard.

She notices his knowing stare on her and stops laughing right away. _Good_.

"It's eight-thirty. Why isn't anyone working?" They hear Captain Weber's voice boom from his office door, and they all turn to look at him standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Louis is getting married!" Jake announces in a loud voice prompting everyone to cheer.

Louis groans loudly, feeling his cheeks heat in embarrassment, and sinks into his chair.

"Congratulations, Louis," Captain Weber says, and it's the third time he ever calls him on first name basis, not that Louis is counting.

Louis sits up straight and looks at him, a bit in shock. "Thank you, sir."

Captain Weber nods shortly then turns his gaze to Kristen, "Detective Stewart, how's Mrs. Aspen's case going?"

"It was her son, sir," Kristen informs him, and he raises his brows, surprised. Louis smirks smugly. "Louis and I stayed in late last night, and we went through all the case all over again. We found stuff that was overlooked before."

"I did, mostly," Louis grins at her and earns a glare.

"Turns out, he was keeping a lot of marijuana in the bookshop's stockroom, and Mrs. Aspen didn't like it one bit. She took it all and burned it in a trash can in the outskirts of city, from what she's told us. Her son was pissed and wanted to get his revenge, it seems. He burned down what was precious to her, just like she did to him."

"What an ass," Jake says after making his way back to his chair.

"Right?" Louis looks at him. "Told you all it was him. Kristen, love, why don't you ever listen to me?"

"Detective Tomlinson, please," Captain Weber frowns at him, and he bites his bottom lip to keep from saying anything else. "Congratulations, you two. Keep up the good work. Tomlinson, I'll keep you updated on the Ivanov case."

"Shouldn't we be following up the leads, sir?"

"Not now, it's too risky. If one of them finds out, then our case will be blown. We don't want that."

"We do not," Louis agrees and watches as his Captain goes back to his office. "I want to follow up the leads." He tells Kristen after he's sure Weber is safe inside and far enough away not to overhear their conversation.

"No," Kristen responds easily.

"Go with me."

"No."

"Kristen!" He whines. "Didn't you want to be my partner on this?"

"Captain Weber didn't sign me to be your partner, Louis," She hisses, and he shrugs. "He told you not to follow up any lead, so don't fucking do it. I'll tell him if you go."

He gasps dramatically, placing one of his hands against the middle of his chest. "I thought we were friends!"

"Shut up. There's a bunch of reports you haven't finished, so just do those now until Captain Weber needs you."

Louis sighs, "Fine, Jesus, what a buzzkill you are."

"I'll kill _you_ ," She warns, and he raises his brows at her.

It's no surprise when they both burst out laughing — it's just another ordinary day in the Precinct.

 

***

 

Louis is humming the tune of a random song while making dinner when Harry gets home (he texted earlier to complain to Louis about how much of an asshole his boss is — no surprise there — and told Louis he'd be unusually late).

The thing is that Louis doesn't always cook unless he really feels like it. It's just that Harry is so much better in the kitchen than him, always making something different while Louis is always cooking the same old ordinary dish, like pasta or steak, which is why he's decided to be bold tonight.

On the stove there's a pot with cooking rice inside, and Louis can almost call it a shrimp risotto — hopefully he will call it that, unless it burns and everything goes to shit. That's usually what happens when he's in the kitchen, anyway.

 _However_ , he made sure to strictly follow the recipe in one of Harry's recipe books, and, so far, it's all going smoothly and according to how it is actually supposed to go. It also smells really fucking good. Louis is honestly proud of himself.

They usually eat on the counter, but since Louis is going all for the _chef_ mood, he's set the dining table with two of their nicest plates (which Harry will probably whine about, since he loves those plates way too much and is too scared they'll break if someone so much as breathes close to it) with two wine glasses and an actual bottle of wine.

Louis hears Harry placing his keys on the counter behind him. Two seconds later, he feels a pair of arms wrapping around his waist and smiles softly, tilting his head to the side when Harry nudges his nose on his shoulder just to place a soft and long kiss on his neck.

"I can't believe you're the one cooking and it actually smells pretty great," Harry chuckles quietly against his neck.

"Heyyy," Louis frowns bemused and slaps Harry's thigh. "Get away from me."

Harry grins before biting Louis' cheek softly, stepping away to rest his bottom against the sink, next to Louis.

"So," Louis starts with his eyes on the pot. "Everybody at the Precinct knows you proposed to me."

Harry snorts a laugh while pinching Louis' bum once, making him giggle. "I proposed, did I?"

"Well, you kinda begged _me_ to do it, so I think that counts as you proposing to me."

His beautiful, beautiful boyfriend — god, _fiancé_ — rolls his green eyes amusedly. "Right. So, they know, huh? I thought we were waiting until we planned everything?"

"I'd only told Kristen, but you know how big Jake's ears are. He heard us talking about it and then yelled for everyone to hear."

"It's okay," Harry smiles sweetly at him. Louis turns the stove off after closing the pot with its cover, so he can turn around and be face to face with his pretty boy. "I don't mind everybody knowing you'll be officially mine in a few months."

Louis frowns at him with a small amused smile. "What do you mean "officially mine"? That's just stupid. I've been officially your for years now."

"I mean," Harry huffs as if Louis should know this already. "By the law."

Louis rolls his eyes fondly and steps into Harry's space, their fronts pressed together, when he leans up to kiss those soft plump lips. "Can't wait for you to be my hubby," he whispers against Harry's lips, causing the younger one to giggle.

" _Hubby,_ " He bites Louis' lips playfully. "Who _s_ _ays_ that?"

"I do. Now, enough chit-chatting. Let's get to eat because I'm fucking starving."

"You even set the table. Romantic. Are you trying to woo me?"

"Please," Louis scoffs while he grabs a food dish from the cupboard. "I've done that already."

"That you did."

Louis raises his brows at Harry, unimpressed, as he carefully puts the risotto in the food dish. His mouth water at the sight — it smells as good as it looks. He hopes he hasn't done anything wrong.

When they're both sitting on the table with the risotto on it ready to be eaten, Louis fills their plates with it and their glasses with wine.

"Wine and risotto, huh?" Harry smirks at him. "Is this a date?"

"No. This is me trying to kill you. I'm waiting for you to take the first bite because there's poison in it."

Harry laughs softly before grabbing his forks and actually taking the first bite, humming in appreciation. "I can't believe I'm saying this but...this is probably the tastiest risotto I've ever had."

"No, it isn't," Louis squints his eyes at him. He takes his first bite, eyes widening. "It actually is!" He agrees with his mouth full.

"Told ya." Harry smiles proudly, nudging Louis' ankle with his foot.

They eat mostly in silence after that, occasionally smiling softly at each other while their ankles tangle together under the table. From time to time, however, Harry asks him about random stuff or tells him about something that happened at work during his day. Still, it's pretty silent, but even _that_ can be amazing with Harry. The kind of relationship that doesn’t need constant conversation, where companionable silence is just as important.

It's only when they're finished and laughing at something Harry's said that they can hear Louis' phone beeping from the living room, letting them know that there's a new text message.

Harry raises his brows at him questioningly.

"It's probably Kristen," Louis says. "She's supposed to keep me updated about a case."

"Alright," Harry smiles softly as he stands up. "I'll clean up really quick."

"Okay, love," Louis pecks Harry's lips when he stands up, heading to the living room to find his phone after.

He grabs the device from the center table and sits down on the couch with a _thump_ , resting his head back and sighing deeply as he unlocks his phone and opens the text.

It takes him two seconds to read and one more for him to stop breathing for a moment; his heart has just started beating so fast that it could explode with worry, just as his frown is so deep it could damage his features forever, really.

 _Isn't it funny that I know exactly what he's carrying in that plastic bag?_ , it's what the message says with an attached picture of Harry. It's from an unknown number.

Jesus Christ, that's _Harry_ probably walking back to the building he works at after having lunch, carrying a plastic bag from Panera Bread, probably with the same treats he always buys for himself after lunch, and Louis is _freaking out_.

The picture only shows Harry's back and a bit of Sarah's arm and hair. Harry is looking at her, but Louis can't see his face entirely, although he can tell he's smiling, which seems to dig a hole even deeper in his chest.

The fact that someone out there was following Harry around and took pictures of him makes Louis want to puke.

He's still frowning at his phone when he hears Harry stepping into the living room. He's quick to lock his phone and put it back on the center table, trying to calm his heart and breathing down.

_Who is this?_

"Was it Kristen?" Harry asks after sitting down next to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah," Louis nods stiffly, and turn his head to look at Harry, smiling weakly.

"Are you okay?" Harry frowns at him, eyes wandering over his face. "You seem out of breath."

"I'm fine," Louis lies. "Was just pissed about what Kristen told me, but we'll figure it out in the morning."

Louis' mind is a chaos. What was the message supposed to mean? Why would someone go around following Harry and take pictures of him to send it to Louis? He swallows dry as the word _threat_ swims in his head and doesn't really know how he's supposed to react.

"Babe," Harry calls him, and he blinks out of his daze. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," He nods quickly. "I'm sorry. Let's watch something. I remember you saying you wanted to start watching that lame vampire show."

"Hey," Harry chuckles at him with a nudge on his arm. "My sister loves it. She can't stop talking about it, so I decided to give it a try."

"Why do you have to drag me into this?" Louis whines exasperatedly trying to act as normal as possible despite his turbulent thoughts as he grabs the remote control and turns the TV on, opening the Netflix app right away.

"Because I'm tired of you watching the same show over and over again."

"Hey. Grey's Anatomy will always be worth my time, you hear me? Show it some respect."

Harry's carefree laugh makes Louis' heart skip a beat, which hurts just a little bit more as he thinks about the text message.

After putting the pilot episode of The Vampire Diaries on, Harry folds his legs underneath himself and rests against Louis' side. Louis places a long and soft kiss on the top of his head, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulder and squeezing him tight against himself.

It doesn't surprise him when in the middle of the second episode Harry is sound asleep with one of his hands on top of Louis' thigh and the other holding the back bottom of his jumper.

Louis stares down at him with worry at the pit of his guts.

That night is the first one of many others that Louis goes without a good night of sleep.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**THE FIGHT FOR YOU IS ALL I'VE EVER KNOWN**

 

There's always a first time for something someone has never thought about doing. ****  
** **

Harry remembers the first time he ate broccoli, something that, as a kid, he had never thought he would be doing (kids hate broccoli, don't they?). He was ten, he remembers it. His mother had told him that if he didn't eat all the broccoli on his plate, he couldn't go to his best mate's house that afternoon, so he didn't have much of a choice. He remembers it tasting like garbage the first few seconds until it actually tasted good. He remembers the smile of victory his mother sent him and his sister telling him he was a whiny boy. He remembers feeling surprised that he actually liked it and remembers eating every last bit of it. ****  
** **

Harry remembers the first time he kissed a girl at fourteen and how it felt weirdly wrong — besides the fact that he had never thought about actually kissing a  _ girl  _ before, he had never  _ wanted _ to kiss a  _ girl _ . So, when it happened, he felt powerless, really. He remembers having to spend the Seven Minutes In Heaven — more like hell — in a closet with a pretty red-headed girl named Luna at his best mate's house (because that's where everything happened, really). He remembers telling her that they didn't need to kiss just because people expected them to only to earn an amused smile from her.  _ I wanna kiss you, silly _ , is what she'd said before they were kissing. He remembers feeling all kinds of wrong. ****  
** **

So,  _ yes _ , there's always a first time for something someone has never thought about doing.

It's the morning after his panic attack in Niall's bar when he's currently in the Precinct's elevator to meet with Kristen so he can watch her interrogate someone who is probably related to the reason Louis had to disappear. ****  
** **

He's hyped on three cups of coffee and has to hold himself back from drinking the one in his right hand which he's bought for Kristen — he's got to be extra nice after last night, right? She was the one to deal with his shit, after all. ****  
** **

After waking up at six to take a quick shower and get dressed for his unusual day, he had breakfast with his sister and apologized for not being able to spend the day with her. When asked about his plans for the day, he just shrugged and stuffed his mouth with the last piece of toast just so he could stand up from his chair, grabbing his messenger bag from a spot by the door to leave the apartment. ****  
** **

Now, when the elevator doors finally open, he's extremely nervous. So he won't look like a creep with a cup of coffee in hands, he steps out and quietly makes his way to Kristen's desk, where she's currently typing something on her laptop. ****  
** **

Jake is the first one to see him, standing up from his chair to walk to him with a warm smile, stopping him in the middle of the Precinct. ****  
** **

"Morning, Harry," He greets kindly and rather loudly (only because that's the way Jake is, really). He's got all eyes on him, now. "We've got doughnuts in our resting room if you'd like some." ****  
** **

Harry smiles gratefully at Jake but shakes his head. "Thanks, Jake. I'm good," he says. ****  
** **

"Harry," Kristen calls him from her desk. "Come here. Leave him alone, Jake. It's too early for your good morning humor." ****  
** **

Jake rolls his eyes but goes back to his desk anyway. Harry walks to Kristen's desk and does his best to avoid looking at the empty desk placed in front of hers. ****  
** **

"How are you?" Kristen asks him as she stands up from her chair. ****  
** **

He shrugs weakly and hands her the cup with a smile just as weak. She accepts it with understanding eyes. ****  
** **

She's wearing the same as she always does on work days — black leather jacket over a black shirt, black skinny jeans, and black boots, just as he's wearing the same as he always does on work days, even though he's not working today. He thought it would be a good idea to look professional, which is why he decided to wear his grey suit rather than the usual black one. He also dared to wear a purple tie. ****  
** **

"Thanks for the coffee," She smiles and he nods. "Are you ready?" ****  
** **

"I think so," He tells her truthfully because really, he's not so sure if he's ready. ****  
** **

"Let's find out, then," She nods towards the hallway to the right side of her desk that will lead them to where they're supposed to be in a few minutes. "You'll be watching from behind the glass, okay?" ****  
** **

He looks at her at her as they start walking and nods, relieved. For a moment he thought he would have to be  _ there  _ with her, which doesn't even make any sense. He's not a cop. ****  
** **

"I don't know how long it'll take, but hopefully not much time," ****  
** **

"Okay," ****  
** **

"If you need anything, you can get out of there and ask Anne or Jake to help you. I'd say you could just call me through the mic there, but we really need this guy to say something. I'll need to be there until he does." ****  
** **

"Right," Harry says and looks at her again when they stop in front of two doors. "Did you get him this morning?" ****  
** **

"About half an hour ago," She informs him. "I got here earlier today, so I could start on this already. I didn't wanna wait any longer." ****  
** **

"Thanks for letting me watch this," He tells her honestly, and she smiles, nodding curtly. ****  
** **

"Shall we do this? You go through this door," She points to the door to the left. "I'll go through this one," She points to the one to the right. ****  
** **

"Okay," He nods. ****  
** **

"Right," Kristen places one of her hands on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "See you in a bit." She opens the door and steps inside, leaving him all by himself. ****  
** **

He doesn't waste any time outside that door and opens the one he supposed to, stepping inside a slightly dark room with a huge glass that allows him to see Kristen standing across a blond guy covered in tattoos, with his hands cuffed to the table between them both. ****  
** **

Harry can't believe he's about to watch this. How did his life come to this? ****  
** **

There is definitely always a first time for something someone has never thought about doing.

Harry grabs a pen and the notepad — which is usually on the kitchen counter by the phone at his apartment — from his messenger bag (he wants to take notes of everything the blond tattooed guy might say). ****  
** **

He doesn't know what to feel, really — he could say that he's excited, however, he can see how nervous he actually is when he holds the notepad in his hand. He's shaking.

Harry has never been passed Louis' desk, and now that he's actually  _ inside _ the Precinct, about to watch an interrogation from behind the glass in a dark room that he always sees in movies, he's really anxious. ****  
** **

"So,  _ Cobra _ , is it?" He hears Kristen's voice through the speakers when she addresses the man. Harry swallows dry and holds the notepad tightly. "That's what you like everyone to call you. I know your real name, though,  _ Nico Huber _ , and I want you to answer all my questions with honesty. We don't want to stay here a long time now, do we?" ****  
** **

"You can't keep me in here," Cobra — Nico Huber — says with a thick western European accent, and Kristen slams her hands on the table, startling the man  _ and _ Harry. ****  
** **

"But I can," Harry can’t see the look on her face, but by the sound of her voice, he can tell she's pissed. Jesus, it's not even been five minutes yet, and the man has already gotten on her nerves. "I knew I'd bust you with drugs on you. I can keep you here however long I please." ****  
** **

"Until my lawyer gets here." ****  
** **

She slams her hands on the table again, causing the man to roll his eyes, and Harry to widen his. ****  
** **

"Shut your mouth unless you're answering my questions, do you understand me?" ****  
** **

Harry sighs deeply as he watches the man roll his eyes one more time before nodding with an annoyed look on his face. He opens his notepad on a random place and clicks the top of his pen, ready to be used. ****  
** **

"How long have you been working for Ivanov?" Kristen asks her first question with a firm voice, arms now crossed over her chest as she leans back against the chair. ****  
** **

"Three years now," Cobra answers easily since the question is not that invasive. ****  
** **

Harry doesn't want to forget anything, so he looks down at the notepad to start taking notes but stops breathing for a moment as soon as his eyes land on a calligraphy he would recognize anywhere. Those are numbers written by Louis, and Harry suddenly can't breathe properly nor listen to what is going on in the other room. It's a phone number, that's for sure. However, it's just that. There's no name nor anything that could tell Harry whose number it belongs to. For now, he takes a deep breath, circles the number and folds the bottom of the page so he won't lose it later. ****  
** **

He flips the page and writes _ Nico Huber Cobra  _ on the new blank one, focusing back on what's playing out in the other room. ****  
** **

"Now, give me names. Who do you work with?" Kristen demands, and even Harry already knows the answer to that. ****  
** **

"I'm not telling you that." ****  
** **

Kristen scoffs, leaning in to place her forearms against the table. "Tell me where Ivanov is," she orders lowly. Harry can tell her shoulders are tense. ****  
** **

"He is everywhere," The man glares at her while Harry's heart beats like crazy. ****  
** **

"Why did you come to New York, Nico?" Kristen tries a different approach. Harry can't even blink. "You're from Switzerland, aren't you? What made you fly from Europe to America?" ****  
** **

Cobra is playing with his fingers when he raises his brows at Kristen, seeming nothing but bored and annoyed out of his mind. His cold eyes give Harry chills. ****  
** **

"As if knowing that would make any fucking difference," He spits, and Harry can tell Kristen is livid by the way she drags her chair back to stand up, only to slam her hands on the table once again. ****  
** **

"It doesn't matter to you what makes a difference to me or not,  _ Cobra _ ," She shouts. "Now tell me why you came to America." ****  
** **

Cobra rolls his eyes with an annoyed huff. "Because I didn't have anything left back in Switzerland,  _ Detective _ ." ****  
** **

"So you decided to come here and work for one of the biggest drug dealers of New York. Probably of entire fucking America." ****  
** **

"Isn't that amazing?" Cobra remarks smugly, causing another slam of Kristen's hands on the table. Harry winces. ****  
** **

"Names," She demands again. ****  
** **

"I won't give you anything." ****  
** **

"We can make a deal," Kristen offers with a tight voice and Harry raises his brows, surprised.

"A deal?" ****  
** **

"You tell me names, and we will consider  shortening your time in prison to less than ten years," ****  
** **

Cobra scoffs once again as he narrows his eyes at her. "Right," he nods with an unimpressed look. ****  
** **

"You think I'm lying?" Kristen asks. "I need names as much as you'd like to not spend years and years locked up behind bars." ****  
** **

Cobra seems to think about what he's being offered for a few seconds until he breaks, sighing deeply while glaring at Kristen. ****  
** **

"There's this woman," Cobra starts off, uneasy. "She used to spend time with Ivanov until he cheated on her with some younger chick. I heard she didn't take it very well and keeps track of Ivanov's steps, even though he wants nothing to do with her anymore. Word says she smashed his phone right on his face." ****  
** **

Harry's heart is beating so fast he might throw up — this might be the first lead they will have on how to get any closer to Louis. ****  
** **

"Tell me her name and where to find her," Kristen demands with her hands on the table, looking down at Cobra. ****  
** **

"Last time we've heard of her she was living in Brooklyn with her grandmother," Cobra confesses in a low voice, as if scared someone besides Kristen will hear what he has to say. "Her name is Samantha Day, she used to go by Purple because of her hair color back in the day. Ivanov called her Purple Angel because she has a great singing voice. I'll tell you the address when my lawyer gets here, and you two can cut my stay in prison a few years." ****  
** **

Harry writes the bit of information they were given down on his notepad with his heart wild in his chest. He only notices Kristen is no longer in the other room when she burst through the door, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him out of the dark room. ****  
** **

"What's going on?" He asks confused when they pass through her desk so she can grab her car key from one of the four drawers, only so they can walk to the elevator right after. ****  
** **

"We're gonna look for Samantha Day," She informs him and he frowns. "Jake! Deal with Nico Huber and his lawyer for me until I get back. Watch the tapes." ****  
** **

Jake looks at them from his laptop and gives her a thumbs up. ****  
** **

"That man didn't give you the address, though," Harry states confusedly once they're in the elevator. He puts the notepad and pen safely inside his messenger bag. ****  
** **

"We don't need it," Kristen states and Harry looks at her, blinking. "There's only one  _ Purple Angel  _ in Brooklyn." She chuckles amusedly. ****  
** **

"What do you mean?" Harry feels like he is missing something, a crucial piece of the puzzle, but what else is new.  ****  
** **

"She sells cars. Illegally. You know, because she steals them," She shrugs. Harry widens his eyes as they make their way to the parking lot. "She spent five years in prison, actually. Now that she's out, she's probably doing it again." ****  
** **

"Do you think she's really in Brooklyn?" ****  
** **

"I don't know. I hope so, but that asshole gave in almost too easily. I don't know if I believe him." ****  
** **

"He sounded pretty convincing," Harry comments once they get inside Kristen's car. ****  
** **

"I know, but they're all great actors." ****  
** **

Harry stares at her for a moment as she turns on the engine. Maybe he's got his hopes too high and is bound to be let down at the end of the day. Kristen is probably right — Cobra did give in almost too easily. They didn't even spend an hour in that room. ****  
** **

He sighs deeply and rests his head against the window when Kristen puts the car in the road, leading them to where Harry hopes they will get answers. ****  
** **

Harry thinks of the phone number on the notepad and squeezes his bag against his chest.

_ I will find you _ , he thinks to himself when Louis' blue eyes cross his mind.

****

***

****

"Is it weird that I've only been in Brooklyn once?" Harry asks as soon as Kristen parks the car in front of a bakery called Brooklyn's Finest Sweets, which isn't  _ that _ original, really, but the pink door and blue walls make him want to go inside. ****  
** **

"How long have you been living in New York?" ****  
** **

"Since I was eighteen," He tells her when they cross the street. ****  
** **

"You're twenty-six, right?" ****  
** **

"Yeah." ****  
** **

"Then, yes, it is pretty weird that you've only been in Brooklyn once." ****  
** **

"There is never a reason for me to come here!" He feels the need to defend himself, causing Kristen to look at him with an amused smile. ****  
** **

"It's alright, I guess. You'll get a tour now, kind of. There's Brooklyn Bridge," She points to the huge bridge looking beautiful a few feet from them. ****  
** **

"How does it look bigger than the first time I've been here?" He gapes. "I don't see the big deal out of it, though." ****  
** **

"Shut up before someone from here hears you," She whispers leaning into his side, so he can hear her. ****  
** **

He narrows his eyes at her, not sure if she's being serious. "Where are we going?" He asks. ****  
** **

"Talk to Samantha," She says. "Hopefully." ****  
** **

"Do you know where to find her?" ****  
** **

"She owns a bookstore," He is informed. ****  
** **

Harry raises his brows, surprised. "Doesn't she steal cars to sell them illegally?" ****  
** **

"She does it behind all the books." ****  
** **

"I'm so confused right now." ****  
** **

"It's alright. See, it's right over there," Kristen points to a very old looking bookstore with a led sign over its black door, the words  _ Reading Tim _ e in bright colors. "It's actually her grandmother's." ****  
** **

"So she just works there with her grandmother? Doesn't she have to…take care of business?" ****  
** **

"She can do it in a bookstore just fine, Harry," ****  
** **

"Right. Of course," Harry nods. ****  
** **

Kristen looks at him when they stop in front of the bookstore after a three-minute walk, her bright green eyes studying him carefully. ****  
** **

"Are you alright?" ****  
** **

"Yeah. I'm fine. Let's go," He tells her firmly and opens the door to the bookstore. ****  
** **

It's a cozy place, actually. It's small, and a place Harry would have liked to spend his time back when he was still in college. It's quiet, kind of comfortable. There aren't many shelves of books around, only around six, but they are long enough to hold as many books as possible. There are also two armchairs by the front window, placed around a coffee table that holds a few magazines on top. ****  
** **

Harry can't believe a woman who steals cars basically owns this place. ****  
** **

"Can I help you?" They hear someone ask from somewhere inside the shop and soon enough there's a dark-skinned old lady walking from behind one of the shelves. ****  
** **

Harry figures that's the grandmother given that she looks to be in her eighties. ****  
** **

She looks kind enough with her thick glasses hanging at the tip of her nose and her flourish red dress that reaches her knees; her grey hair is up in a bun and her ears hold a pair of earrings that look really expensive. ****  
** **

"Hi, Mrs. Day. Would you mind sparing a few minutes of your time to talk to us?" ****  
** **

She looks at them after getting behind the cashier. "Who are you?" She asks. ****  
** **

"NYPD, Mrs. Day. We just need to ask some questions." ****  
** **

"Not you police people again," She complains. "Some of you came here two weeks ago. Why are you here again?" ****  
** **

Harry sees Kristen frowning in confusion, which causes an uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach. ****  
** **

"It's about your granddaughter, Mrs. Day," Kristen explains calmly, and Harry watches Mrs. Day's expression turn into a deep frown. "Do you happen to know where she is? We could really use her help." ****  
** **

"Yeah, I do know where she is," Mrs. Day states, but there's something else to the confession. Her voice is shaky. "She's in the cemetery, with her name on a grave." ****  
** **

Harry’s eyes widen at her admission, turning his head to look at Kristen by his side with a blank face. ****  
** **

"She died a month ago. Someone killed her, and you cops ain't doing anything to find out who did it," Mrs. Day's eyes are watering as she speaks. Harry feels sorry for her, but his chest feels tight due to the fact that they've reached a dead end. "Now get out of here!" ****  
** **

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Day," Kristen says. "And I'm sorry to have bothered you." ****  
** **

Kristen grabs Harry by the wrist to pull him out of the shop. ****  
** **

"Fuck!" She shouts into the thick and warm air of Brooklyn. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" ****  
** **

"Kristen. Can you please stop shouting?" Harry asks quietly right before Kristen stops them in the middle of the sidewalk, turning to face him with an angry expression. ****  
** **

"I knew that son of a bitch was lying," She rants. "He just made us waste a lot of time on something that would lead us nowhere." ****  
** **

"At least you know, now," Harry tries something positive out of the whole situation, but he knows it's no use. ****  
** **

"Let's have lunch," Kristen tells him, completely ignoring what he's just said. "I don't wanna spend another minute here, though." ****  
** **

She turns around to start walking to her car, and Harry follows her close, holding tight onto his messenger bag's handle. ****  
** **

"Do you think it's a coincidence that Samantha was killed a month ago?" He asks quietly when they're driving out of Brooklyn. ****  
** **

"You mean because that's how long Louis has been gone?" Kristen looks at him briefly before turning her focus back on the road. Harry nods. "There's a chance it is a coincidence, but there's also a chance that it isn't. I don't have a fucking clue." ****  
** **

"Right," Harry swallows dry. ****  
** **

"Don't worry, Harry," Kristen says, calmer this time, probably because she can see how uneasy and anxious Harry is. "We'll figure it out." ****  
** **

"Yeah," He nods weakly and rests his head against the window. ****  
** **

He doesn't bother speaking another word for the entirety of the ride.

****

***

****

"Jake, no deal for that asshole," Kristen says on to the phone when they're sitting across from each other in a Taco Bell near Central Park. "You can tell his lawyer that he's gonna rot in a cell for all I care. I have enough proof." ****  
** **

Harry is chewing on a bite of his veggie burrito while watching Kristen frown down at her plate of nachos. ****  
** **

"Right. I'll be there in half an hour," She rolls his eyes at something Jake tells her. "Because I'm having lunch! I'll be there, just fucking wait," She hangs up and slams her phone on the table. ****  
** **

Harry winces, probably more worried than she is about the probability of her phone screen breaking. ****  
** **

"Are you okay?" He asks her. ****  
** **

"Yeah," She nods before looking at him, taking one of her chips to put it in her mouth, chewing it slowly. "I have to go back to the Precinct in a few, though." ****  
** **

"It's okay," He says. "I'm finished with this, anyway." ****  
** **

Kristen eyes his barely eaten burrito and frowns. ****  
** **

"You've barely eaten anything, though. There's more than half burrito left." ****  
** **

"I'm not hungry." ****  
** **

"Harry, you —" ****  
** **

"It's okay," He interrupts her. "I'm really not hungry. I can ask for a bag to pack it and take it home." ****  
** **

Kristen stares at him for a moment before nodding, defeated. "Fine," she concedes. "At least eat your fries." ****  
** **

He rolls his eyes but eats them anyway. ****  
** **

"Are you going to interrogate Nico again?" ****  
** **

"It's no use," Kristen shakes her head. "It'd be a waste of time." ****  
** **

"But...he knows stuff," Harry tells her weakly. ****  
** **

He leaves the french fries be — he doesn't want to eat anything else. He's not hungry, and even if he were, he wouldn't be able to eat properly because he feels sick to his stomach. ****  
** **

"I know he does, Harry," Kristen looks at him sympathetically. "But honestly, all of this seemed to easy. Even when I busted him." ****  
** **

"What do you mean?" ****  
** **

"I don't know." She shrugs, drinking some of her soda. "I just feel like there's something that doesn't add up. I'll talk to Captain Weber to see where we can go from now. I'll keep you updated, okay?" ****  
** **

Harry nods, sighing deeply. "Okay," he smiles weakly. "Thanks for letting me tag along, Kristen." ****  
** **

"I shouldn't have," She chuckles quietly. "Captain Weber will be livid. But it's alright. You deserve to know everything." ****  
** **

"Thank you," He says, again. ****  
** **

"You're welcome." She nods. "Now, let's go before Jake starts calling me again to annoy the shit out of me."

 

***

 

It's around five-thirty p.m when Harry gets home to the smell of something that makes his stomach growls.   


He leaves his keys and bag on the kitchen counter to find Gemma cooking some pasta and bolognese sauce.   


"It smells good," Harry tells her when he stops next to her by the sink. "Thanks for cooking dinner."   


"It's alright. It's not like I had much to do anyway," She shrugs as she whisks the sauce in the pot. "How was your day?"   


"Busy," He says.   


"Did you go to work?" She looks at him, raised brows.   


"No," He shakes his head. "You don't need to know everything I do, okay?"   


"Wow, chill! I'm just asking," She laughs. "Go take a shower or a bath, even. You look like you need it."   


"I do," He sighs and walks back to the counter to look for the notepad in his bag. "See you in a bit."   


Harry doesn't wait to hear her response, hurrying to his bedroom and throwing himself on his bed. He grabs his phone from his back pocket and unlocks it; he opens the notepad on the marked page and types the number on his phone.   


It rings three times before there's a deep smooth voice saying, "Hello?"   


Harry widens his eyes, not sure where to go from there. "Um. Hi, who is this?"   


"You called me. You tell me your name first." The man on the other line says. Harry's heart is about to explode due to how anxious he feels.   


"This is Harry."   


"There are a lot of Harrys in the world," The man states, sounding pretty annoyed. "I'm gonna need you to be more specific."   


"Um, okay. I...right. I know Louis?" He tries, and he hates how it sounds more like a question than anything.   


There's a long silence after that. "Louis Tomlinson?" The man asks.   


"Yes."   


"You're Harry, the fiancé,"   


Harry widens his eyes, scared the shit out of his mind.   


Jesus Christ,  _ what is he doing? _   


"Yes, that's me," He confirms shakily. "I found your number on his stuff."   


"We were working together," The man informs. "I'm Liam Payne, a private investigator."   


Oh.   


_ Oh. _   


Louis hired a private investigator to work with him and suddenly this whole situation is even scarier.   


Harry knows for a fact that Louis isn't quite fond of private investigators. _ They think they can steal my job,  _ he would tell Harry every time there was one involved in a case.   


Was he working with this man to find stuff about this case, specifically?   


"You were working with him? On what?" Harry asks, even though he doesn't know if he really wants to know the answer.   


Why wouldn't Louis talk to Harry about this? If it was already this deep, why wouldn't he let Harry know?   


"I'm guessing you already know the answer to that if you called me," Liam Payne tells him knowingly, getting Harry's breath stuck in his throat for a moment. "I haven't heard from him for a few weeks now, though."   


Harry feels a pang in his chest at the mention of Louis absence. He takes a deep breath before speaking. "He's gone," Harry tells him and there's a heavy silence until he realizes what he's just said. "I mean, he had to disappear. He's not dead."   


His eyes water at the mere thought of Louis being actually gone, and how much in danger he is currently in. That could happen at any time, and Harry doesn't know what to do.   


"That makes sense," Liam Payne hums as if in deep thought. "Why did you call me, then?"   


"Your number was written in his calligraphy, and I wanted to know what it was about," Harry tells him honestly. "I wanna know what is happening."   


"And now that you know who I am, you think I can help," It's not even a question, but Harry pays no mind. It's the truth.   


"Yes."   


"This isn't something we should discuss over the phone," Liam states. "Let's meet for lunch tomorrow. I'll bring everything you should know with me."   


"Okay," Harry agrees immediately. "Right. Where should we meet?"   


"I'll text you the address."   


"Okay. Thank you, Mr. Payne," Harry says quietly, holding the phone tight in his hand.   


"Liam is fine," He gets as a response. "Also, I'm happy to hear Louis isn't dead,"   


"So am I," Harry breathes, and then Liam hangs up.   


Harry places his phone in front of him on the bed and stares down at it for a few long seconds until he hears Gemma calling for him, letting him know dinner is ready.   


He walks slowly to the kitchen, finding Gemma already filling their plates with pasta. She looks at him with raised brows.   


"I thought you were gonna take a bath?" She inquires. He shrugs in response.   


"I fell asleep," He lies.   


She squints her eyes at him, "Right," she drags the word one second longer. "Anyway, sit down."   


He sits in one of the stools while she sits next to him after placing the plates on the counter.   


"I have to leave tomorrow," She informs him after their two first bites. "I'm sorry, I thought I could stay longer, but you know. Duty calls."   


"It's alright," He looks at her while cleaning his mouth with a napkin. "Thanks for coming, Gemma. You know I love when you come to visit."   


She arches her brows at him pointedly. "You know I love when you go to Chicago to visit, too," she says. "So why don't you? Come with me, Haz."   


"We've been over this, already," He sighs deeply. "I'm not going to Chicago nor am I going to Saint Paul."   


"You should, though," She shrugs.   


"But I'm not. I don't want to. Not now, anyway. Please, forget about this," He pleads with a tired look.   


Gemma nods after heavying her shoulders down in defeat. "Fine," She huffs. "But please, don't take so long to visit. I miss you, and mom misses you, too."   


"You know I miss you, too," He assures her.   


"We can go visit her together," She suggests. "Spend a weekend there."   


"Yeah," He nods with a mouth full of pasta. "When do you have to leave tomorrow?"   


"My flight is at eight in the morning," She tells him.   


"I'll take you to the airport."   


"Are you crazy? No, you don't need to do that. We can say goodbye here, and you can go back to sleep."   


He glares at her. "I wanna take you," He insists.   


"No. It's way too far out of the way. I don't want you to do that. You stay here."   


He rolls his eyes, chewing the last bite of his pasta. "Fine," He huffs. "Don't complain about it later, though."   


She smiles amusedly, nodding in agreement, "No need to worry about that."   


"It's just that you're always complaining about something," He comments jokily, earning a glare from her. "Love you," He smiles cheekily at her.   


It's good to have her around, the heaviness in his chest feeling less of a burden while she smiles at him with fondness.   


Only when it's late at night and when he's in bed under his blanket that he allows himself to think about the day he's had — Nico Huber, Purple Angel and then Liam Payne, all of them being linked to Louis, and it hurts. It really does. It's too heavy for him to carry all by himself on his shoulders, too hard.   


It takes him hours until he's completely asleep.

***

 

It's been three hours since Gemma's left to the airport. It was terrible waking up at five in the morning to say goodbye, but Harry is glad he got to do it. It hurt to watch her walk down the hallway and close the door behind him after she was gone, seeing as the apartment was completely empty once again, with no one but himself to deal with the deep silence.

Now, as he lies in bed while staring at the white ceiling, he can't help but feel desperate once again.

He thinks about Louis looking at him with pleading eyes as he explained to Harry what he could, and he thinks about the text message he's received two days ago, threatening the one person he loves the most.

The thought of Louis actually getting hurt makes his eyes water and his heart beat faster. Harry misses him  _ too much _ .

He grabs his phone from the bedside table, unlocking it to text Kristen something that's been on his mind since the day before, but he kind of forgot to bring it up.

_ Could you track the phone that sent me that text? _ he types and patiently waits for her response. She's usually quick to reply.

_ Morning, Harry _ , she types back thirty seconds later, and Harry kind of feels bad that he didn't even type a hello.  _ I'm sorry, we couldn't. It was a disposable phone and those always suck. _

Harry bites his bottom lip nervously.  _ It's okay, thanks anyway. See you later,  _ he sends her before standing up from his bed and walking to the bathroom to take a shower.

He takes twenty minutes under the shower and ten more to get ready for his day — he's supposed to meet Liam Payne, the private investigator, at twelve-thirty for lunch at a Mexican restaurant he's never heard of before.

Since it's still nine-fifteen, he walks after grabbing his phone from his bed to his kitchen to make himself a light breakfast. While he waits for the two waffles in the toaster and his coffee get ready, he texts Sarah and Mitch on their group chat.

_ Are you two having sex yet? _ he sends them with a weak smile on the corner of his lips because he misses this feeling of always being the cheeky and annoying one, other than this hallow self he's become ever since Louis took that part away with him when he left.

_ Morning to you too, dick _ , it's what he gets from Sarah two seconds later, followed by,  _ soon we will be _ from Mitch.

Harry squints his eyes down at his phone amusedly and turns his head to look at the toaster when it makes a sound to inform him his breakfast is ready. He types a quick  _ I miss you guys _ to his friends and locks his phone to put some strawberry jam on his waffles. It's two minutes later when the coffee machine makes almost the same sound to let him know his good old pal coffee is ready to be drunk.

He sits on the counter as he quietly eats, trying his best to ignore how the silence is so heavy it could drown him in the ocean if he was thrown in the water with it on his shoulders.

He tries his best.

 

***

 

Since Harry's place is all the way back in Sunnyside and the restaurant's address Liam Payne has sent him takes place in Westbury, it takes him an hour to arrive there. After a twenty-minute walk from the subway to this restaurant called Cozymel's Mexican Grill, he's standing in front of the place while holding his messenger tight to his side as he tries to catch his breath.   


He sends Liam a text to inform him he's already there and gets a response a second later, letting him know that he's inside.   


As he passes through the huge sign and enters the place, he feels like he should have known about it already. It's quite big and probably as Mexican as a Mexican restaurant can be. Harry smiles at the thought of how much Louis would like this place, but the smile is soon replaced by a frown as he's reminded of why he is even there in the first place.   


"Welcome to Cozymel's," A tanned green-eyed girl appears next to him with a kind smile and curly brown hair. "Are you meeting someone or is it just yourself today?"   


"Um. I'm meeting someone," He tells her with a weak smile. "He's already here."   


"Oh, maybe he left his name so we could help you find him," She offers as she takes an iPad from the front pocket of her apron.   


"Liam Payne,"   


She touches the screen for a few seconds before looking at him with that kind smile one more time. "Follow me, please," she nods to the right and leads them to a booth with brown seats and beautiful lamp hung in the middle of the table.   


"Thanks," He tells her when she points to the spot where a man, who is probably Liam Payne, is sitting.   


He's nothing like Harry was expecting him to be (old and scary). Liam Payne is probably around the same age as he is and has what it looks to be the kindest of all brown eyes, which is a weird thing for Harry to think. He's wearing a long sleeved black shirt (which is even weirder since July is right on the corner), dark blue jeans and grey sneakers.   


Harry expected him to be wearing a fancy suit as much as he expected him to have at least a little bit of white hair.   


If he'd known, he wouldn't have worn a damn suit as if he was going to work. He should've worn something that didn't make him look like a loser.   


Now he just feels out of place.   


"Harry," Liam Payne stands up from his seat to shake his hand. "It's nice to meet you."   


"Thanks for meeting me," Harry says after he sits across from him. "And I'm sorry for calling out of nowhere."   


"I wasn't really surprised when I realized who you were, really," Liam shrugs and smiles kindly at him. "I'm glad you called."   


Harry blinks at him, surprised, "Really?"   


"Of course. It would be a shame to leave this case unfinished," Liam confesses in a hushed voice and cheeky smile.   


Harry widens his eyes.  _ This guy is a private investigator?  _ It's what he thinks.  _ He sounded so serious over the phone _ . Harry can see why Louis would choose to work with him out of all the (unreasonable dicks — as he would say) private investigators.   


"Hi, my name is Rodrigo, and I'll be your waiter for today. I'll leave the menus here and will be back on a few minutes to place your order," A brown-eyed and curly-haired dude stands by their table and speaks so fast that it's almost too difficult to understand him with his Mexican accent. "Here are your chips and salsa," He takes a bowl of chips and salsa from his tray to place it on the table after doing the same with the menus.   


"Thank you, Rodrigo," Liam looks up at him with a smile.   


"Of course. Can I help you with something to drink?"   


"Water, please," Liam says.   


"Same for me,"   


"I'll be right back, then," Rodrigo smiles and takes off.   


Liam looks back at Harry with a face clean of any expression, which is so weird. Harry doesn't know if he's creeped by how easy this is all going or how surprised he is at how kind Liam is.   


"So, you were working with Louis?" Harry asks him because he can't wait any longer.   


Liam nods. "He called me two months ago to ask me to find some information," he reports. "Then we were working the case together. He'd bring me names or anything at all, and I'd try my best to dig out information."   


"What did you find?"   


Liam doesn't answer him right away, though. He actually seems pretty hesitant.   


"I need to know, Liam," Harry persists. "I need to know what you two found out together, so I can find  _ him _ . He's been gone for six weeks now."   


"I've brought some things," Liam tells him. "I'll give it to you under one condition."   


"What?"   


"You let me help you with this," He gets as a response and is quite surprised, brows raised as he stares at Liam. "Louis is a great man and I've grown quite fond of him while we worked together. I'd like to help you."   


"Well, it's no problem, really...how much would you charge for —"   


"No," Liam interrupts him. "No charge. I wanna do this because I wanna help. I'm really glad you called, and I'd be happy to help. Louis is a good man."   


"Wow," Harry breathes. "That's, um. Right. Okay. Thank you so much."   


Liam smiles at him with a nod. "I must tell you," he speaks. Harry's heart skips a beat for a moment. "The shrimp here is amazing."   


Harry chuckles, relief bursting through his entire body. "Then I'll probably get the shrimp fajitas," he says while looking at the menu.   


"Good choice," Liam nods. "I always get these churri steak fajitas," He tells Harry, pointing to a dish in the menu. "Well, I kinda like everything they serve here, really. It's probably my favorite restaurant in the area."   


"Do you live here?"   


"No. Astoria, actually," Liam answers, and Harry raises his brows, surprised, and kind of confused, really. "I know what you're thinking. Why did I tell you to meet up all the way down here, right?" Harry nods, chuckling quietly. Liam shrugs. "I figured it'd be best if we were far away from our area to talk."   


"Oh."   


Before Louis can say anything, Rodrigo, the waiter, comes back with two glasses of water and places it in front of them, smiling down at them after. "Are you ready to order?" He asks.   


"I'll have the churri steak fajitas," Liam tells him with a smile.   


Rodrigo types it down on his iPad, looking at Harry then.   


"I'd like the shrimp fajitas, please," Harry smiles up at him.   


"Anything to drink?"   


"Water is fine," Liam says.   


"Same for me," Harry nods and then Rodrigo is off to deal with other customers.   


Liam looks back at Harry, placing his forearms on the table. "You know, since you're a cop's fiancé, people must recognize your face." he goes back to the previous subject.   


"Not really," Harry tells him with a shrug and quiet laugh. "I don't think so."   


"Well, still," Liam shrugs, taking a sip of his water. "It's safer if we talk about this somewhere Louis isn't well known."   


Harry swallows down a gulp of his own water and nods understandingly. "You're right," he says. "Can you, please, tell me what you know?"   


"Before Louis stopped contacting me, we found this address that some of Ivanov men spent a lot of time going," Liam tells him in a quiet voice while opening his backpack to get a folder from it, opening it right in front of Harry on the table. "See, they went there all the time. Almost like a meeting spot."   


Liam is showing him pictures of at least five different men going in and out of a grey house.   


"This is Nico Huber," Harry points to the blond tattooed man in one of the pictures. "Kristen interrogated him yesterday, but he gave information that led us nowhere."   


"Us?"   


"She let me watch the interrogation and go with her to follow up some leads. She's a detective."   


Liam nods, his eyes fixed on Harry's. "That's nice," he says. "You should be careful, though. They're not people to play with."   


Harry blinks at him, clearing his throat as he looks back at the pictures. "Where is this? Looks like somewhere in Manhattan."   


"That's because it is. Yorkville," Liam confirms and Harry widens his eyes. "I know, right? What are these guys doing on Upper East Side?"   


"Do you think Ivanov is there?" Harry whispers, leaning on the table, so he's closer to Liam.   


"No, I don't think so," Liam shakes his head. "That'd be too risky for him."   


"What is it, then?"   


"Maybe where he meets some of his most important buyers," He shrugs. "Well, not him. His men."   


"Right."   


"You can keep this folder," Liam closes the folder between them and slides it towards Harry. "I'll call you if I find anything else."   


"Is this all you've found with Louis?"   


"No. There's more, but this is the closest we got to them,"   


"Oh."   


"This won't be the only time we see each other, Harry. I told you, I wanna help."   


Rodrigo comes back with their meals before Harry can say anything else, placing their plates in front of them. It smells amazing, and then Liam is too busy eating to talk any more.   


Harry looks at him for a moment longer before lowering his eyes to his plate.   


He enjoys his meal with his mind going a hundred miles per minute.   


 

***

 

It's only half past two when Harry is peacefully sitting on one of the benches in Central Park.

Well, not so peacefully now that his messenger bag seems not so figuratively heavier than before, given that there's a whole folder with pictures and notes that could actually lead him somewhere in this whole situation.   


He holds the bag close to his chest as he watches people walking around, thinking about Louis.  _ What is he doing? Is he safe? Is he thinking about me as much as I think about him? _   


Harry can't stand feeling this powerless anymore. Here he is, holding a bunch of pictures that could probably help Louis, and yet he can't do anything. He thinks about calling Kristen to tell her about everything, but if Louis himself didn't show any of this to his best friend (who actually works with him), why would Harry do the same? He feels like he'd be betraying Louis' trust somehow. It wouldn't be right.   


If Louis decided to start working the case with no one but himself and a private investigator, then Harry has to do the same.   


_ I'm a journalist; I can figure stuff out too _ , he reasons to himself in his mind, but it sounds weak even when he actually speaks it up in a whisper.  _ I can do it _ , he chants in his mind.   


He could take that gun Louis bought a few months ago to put it in the bottom of one of Harry's drawers, under all of his sweaters.  _ In case anything were to happen _ , Louis had said before he shut the drawer.   


Now, as Harry thinks about it, it makes sense that Louis even bought it in the first place. He probably did it when  _ things _ started to happen.   


Harry swallows dry at the thought of actually holding a gun.  _ I can't do it _ , he whispers to himself. What the hell is he supposed to do? He can't use a  _ gun _ . Even if Louis bought it for him to use in case anything ever happened, _ he can't _ .   


He's not even sure if he would  _ know _ how to use a gun. This is terrible, he should definitely call Kristen, she will know what to do.   


_ But Louis didn't want her to know about it _ , a voice tells him in the back of his mind. He bites hard on his bottom lip, standing up abruptly to start making his way to the subway station.

The next thing he knows, he's inside a tube on his way to Yorkville.

 

***

 

_ This is a terrible idea, what am I doing?  _ It's the first thing Harry thinks once he stops in front of the grey house in the pictures Liam’s showed him.    


The day is more than warm enough to make him sweat under his suit, but the fact that he’s way beyond nervous and anxious makes everything worse. He’s holding tight to his messenger bag’s handle while he stares at the house in front of him with his bottom lip between his lips.   


He’s so stupid, what is he supposed to do now?    


He can’t even understand why Louis would keep this from Kristen or the Captain, for that matter. Everything inside the folder Liam gave him is something that the police should be looking into. They could bust those men in that house and arrest them all  — what was Louis thinking? Why would he keep this away from the Precinct?   


Now Harry is standing there, clueless. What the fuck is he supposed to do?    


His hands are shaking by now, and his mouth is dry. He shouldn’t be here. He should have called Kristen or  _ something _ .    


However, the fact that Louis kept this to himself for a reason makes his heart believe he did the right thing, even if his brain is shouting at him to get the fuck away from that place. Of course, the only thing he ever listens when it comes to Louis is his heart, which is why before he even can think about what he’s doing, he’s climbing the few steps of the small stairs which leads him to the small porch of the house. Then, he’s standing in front of the white door to knock on it.    


_ Fuck _ , he’s out of his damn mind. He could die, for crying out loud. Solving this case for Louis isn’t worth his life, right?   


Everything is so creepily silent that he’s suddenly aware of how weird it actually is. It’s the middle of the day and there is barely anyone in the street. Harry has never been to Yorkville before, let alone this specific street, but is it supposed to be this lifeless? There are only a few people walking around, and it’s strange.    


He sighs deeply as he raises his hand to the door, knocking on it two times before realizing it’s actually open. He widens his eyes while his heart beats so fast it hurts his chest.    


He figures the house is empty since there isn’t anyone coming to the door to answer and it’s silent as fuck. So, of course, he does the one thing he shouldn’t do and opens the door.    


It’s a funny thing how he’s always complaining about those characters in horror movies who always do the one thing they’re not supposed to, and then there he is. Stepping into someone else’s house, who could very much be the one threatening him and Louis. Someone who could have him killed.   


Unsurprisingly, he notices there is something wrong as soon as he’s inside  — the house is a mess.    


There are many things broken all around the living room. Harry can immediately tell that someone has broken into this house and took a bunch of things. He has never been there before, but he can tell there are a lot of things missing by the way some empty spots doesn’t quite fit with the rest of the house’s decoration.   


That should have been his cue to turn around and leave, obviously, but he needs to find at least  _ something _ . So he doesn’t think when he steps further into the house, entering one of the bedrooms to find it just as messy as the living room is, except the drawers to the wardrobes and bedside tables are all open. Someone was definitely looking for something.   


Harry swallows dry when he steps closer to the wardrobe, peeking at the open drawers. He doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to be looking for.    


Fuck, he should leave. He should definitely leave. This isn’t right.    


He turns around to walk out the bedroom door, holding tight to his bag when he stops in his tracks, heart beating so fast he could have a heart attack right there.    


The thing is that it would’ve been easier to actually have a heart attack right then, because he wouldn’t have to deal with how much fear he is in and how regret is now eating him alive.    


When he hears sirens coming closer and closer to the house, he can’t help but think that this is why he always plans something before actually doing it. This is why he always thinks twice before stepping into something he doesn’t fucking know.   


When he hears the front door being slammed open, he can’t help but think that this is why he works sitting on a desk in front of a computer while he can easily talk to his best friend; this is why he isn’t a fucking cop like his missing fiancé.    


This is why he has to learn how to think with his brain instead of his heart.   


“Freeze!” There’s a broad black man standing in front of him by the bedroom door while pointing a gun at him. “Hands above your head where I can see!”   


Harry blinks dryly as he watches the scene in front of him. Three more cops appear behind the large man who’s still pointing a gun at him, even though he can now see Harry’s clearly, as they’re both above his head.    


“You have the right to remain silent,” The large man says as he steps behind him to grab his hands and cuff them on his back. Harry already knows how that goes. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”   


Harry’s eyes are wide and his mind is blank. He can’t think of anything.    


“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.”   


_ What have I done? _


	6. Chapter 6

**DON'T KNOW HOW TO ADMIT THAT I'M BROKEN**

_**Louis, three months ago** _

 

It’s been four days since Louis received the text, and he knows Harry is starting to get suspicious due to the way Louis has been acting around him.  ****  
** **

Ever since the day after the text, Louis has been taking Harry to work. They ride in the tube together, and instead of parting their ways once they take off on their same stop, Louis walks him to the New York Times building. At first, Harry was surprised but happy that Louis decided to give him company even though he would be a few minutes late for work. ****  
** **

Now, on day four, Harry is actually kind of angry. He doesn’t say anything, but Louis can see it in Harry’s eyes once they make their way to the subway station.  ****  
** **

Harry is the passive-aggressive kind of person, so at breakfast that morning they sit across from each other and make small talk, but it all feels wrong because Louis knows Harry is done with his nonsense.  ****  
** **

Sitting side by side in the tube, Louis notices how Harry steals glances at him from time to time, a deep frown on his face. Louis pretends he doesn’t see it, choosing to hold his backpack tight against his chest while he pretends to be interested in the tube’s ceiling.  ****  
** **

“What’s going on?” Harry asks eventually, which is no surprise. Louis knew it would come, given that Harry can never go on so long without saying anything. Louis knows that even though Harry is the passive-aggressive kind of person, he always ends up exploding if he keeps it all to himself for too long.  ****  
** **

“What do you mean?” Louis looks at him dumbly, regretting his words as soon as their eyes meet. Harry looks livid, and Louis doesn’t appreciate an angry Harry. He’s too pretty to be wearing that deep of a frown.  ****  
** **

“I genuinely thought it was nice of you to walk with me to my workplace, but now it’s annoying the shit out of me,” Harry tells him quietly, leaning against his side so only Louis can hear what he’s saying. “What’s going on? You’ve been so weird for the past few days.” ****  
** **

“I just thought it’d be nice to walk with you, it’s all.”  ****  
** **

“No, it’s not. I don’t want you to do it today. I don’t want you to walk me there.” ****  
** **

Louis’ heart quickens its pace, making it possible for him to actually hear it. He can’t have _that_ , no. He can’t have Harry walking all by himself to his work knowing that there is someone out there following him and taking pictures of him.  ****  
** **

He’s swallowing dry while he blinks his heavy eyes quickly. _Fuck_ , he needs to get some real sleep.  ****  
** **

Ever since the text, Louis hasn’t been able to sleep throughout the whole night, and it’s wearing him off. He’s tired, and he’s worried. He doesn’t know what to do.  ****  
** **

“But I wanna walk with you,” He argues, sounding weak even to his own ears.  ****  
** **

Harry scowls at him, annoyed. “What the fuck is going on, Louis?”  ****  
** **

“I just wanna spend more time with you, what’s wrong with that? Your work isn’t that far from mine,” Louis frowns as they eyes meet one more time. It hurts to lie to him, but Louis can’t exactly tell him what is really going on. What is he supposed to tell him, anyway? _Hey, Harry, there’s someone following you around and taking pictures of you_ ? Louis can’t say _that_ .  ****  
** **

“It kinda is, Louis. What’s happening? You’ve been quiet as fuck lately and now you want to walk me to my work every day?”  ****  
** **

“Ugh, fine!” Louis snaps as they finally make their way out of the tube. “I won’t fucking walk with you, then, if it’s such an unbearable thing to you.” ****  
** **

“That’s not what I meant, Louis. You know that.” ****  
** **

They walk outside the subway station, stopping in front of one of the many trees surrounding them.  ****  
** **

“Well, it surely sounds like it, given that you won’t shut up about how there’s something wrong when I only wanna walk with you.” Louis rolls his eyes as he lets his lie slip out of his lips uneasily. Well, it’s not that much of a lie — Louis does like to walk with Harry to his workplace, but his reasons are bigger than that.  ****  
** **

“Louis, I know you. I know when you hide something. I know when you lie.” Harry squints his eyes at him, making Louis’ heart skip a beat.  ****  
** **

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Louis ignores what has been just said to him, causing Harry to frown deeply. He doesn’t want to let Harry walk by himself, but he can’t go with him unless he tells Harry the truth — which he can’t and he won’t.  ****  
** **

“Lou,” Harry blinks at him, eyes pleading, “Come on.” ****  
** **

“Have a nice day at work, baby,” Louis steps into Harry’s space and kisses his lips softly. “Call me if you need anything.” ****  
** **

Harry sighs deeply and nods in defeat, looking at Louis with careful eyes. “Okay,” he says, “See you later.” ****  
** **

Louis turns around to walk away with a tight chest.

****

***

 

It’s around ten-thirty a.m when Louis sees Kristen for the first time that morning. She’s been out ever since he arrived at the Precinct after walking away from Harry, doing god knows what. He doesn’t bother asking her about it, though. He’s too fucking numb to care about anything that isn’t the text on his phone, staring at him as if mocking him, chanting: _come on, do something about it, I dare you._ ****  
** **

He knows Kristen is talking to him, now sitting across from him at her desk, but he can’t look away from his phone, which is being squeezed tight in his hand. Louis doesn’t know what to do. ****  
** **

Surely he should tell his best friend (and also one of the best detectives he knows) about this disturbing text from a few nights before? He should talk to her and ask for help -- that’s what a conscious person would do, right? However, what could Kristen possibly do that he can’t do it himself? He’s just as good of a detective as she is, if not better. What difference would it make if he told her about it?  ****  
** **

He feels useless — he hasn’t done anything all morning except sit his ass in his chair as he tried to come up with something that could take him to this unknown person so he could strangle them. He hasn’t bothered trying to track the phone number because he knows it’ll be no use (what kind of dumbass person would threaten the other with a phone that could be easily tracked?). It’s always so much work to do it, and he knows it’ll take him nowhere. Well, that and the fact that he would have to tell the Captain about his situation, since everything they do in the Precinct goes by Captain Weber first. And, well, he shouldn’t tell Captain Weber about it, right? That’s his problem, he should take care of it himself. He’s surely capable of doing so. ****  
** **

“Louis!” He snaps out of his thoughts with a blink, looking at a frowning Kristen across from him. “What’s wrong with you? I’ve called you, like, five times.” ****  
** **

“I’m sorry,” He tells her with a sigh, pressing his phone against his forehead as if it could give him signs of what the fuck to do, or something. “Had a bit of an argument with Harry before coming to work and haven’t been able to concentrate properly. Sorry.” ****  
** **

“Oh,” Kristen raises her brows at him, surprised. It’s understandable, really, her reaction. Harry and Louis hardly ever argue, and when they do, Louis is never really worried about it that much, given that it is always an argument over something stupid. “Did something happen? Are you alright?” ****  
** **

“I’m fine. We’re just too stubborn sometimes. It’s fine,” He looks at her with a tight smile.  ****  
** **

“Well, I’m sure that by the end of the night you two will be sucking each other’s mouth or soul or whatever. I don’t get people who are in love.”  ****  
** **

Louis chuckles quietly at her choice of words, blinking at her slowly. ****  
** **

“We are in love,” He says as if he’s just realizing that. Kristen gives him a weird look. “Fuck. I’ll be right back.” ****  
** **

“What? Why did you say that as if you didn’t know you were in love already?” Kristen asks him when he stands up from his chair abruptly, storming his way out to Captain Weber’s office. “Louis!” ****  
** **

What was he thinking? Of course he needs to fucking talk to Captain Weber about this. Of course he needs to try tracking that stupid phone number. This is Harry. _His_ Harry. He can’t just _not_ do something when there’s someone out there following the love of his life and taking pictures of him just to send it to Louis later as a fucking threat. ****  
** **

“Captain Weber, I need to talk to you,” He announces without even knocking first. He’ll probably never hear the end of it, but he doesn’t have time to worry about _that_ . ****  
** **

“Tomlinson, where are your manners?” Captain Weber looks up from his laptop, sitting behind his spacious desk. “I’ve told you to knock before coming into my office. That’s rule number one.” ****  
** **

“Not saving innocent people from bad guys?” Louis asks in a playful but sarcastic tone because he just can’t help himself around Weber, who just glares at him as if silently asking what the hell he is doing there, _bothering him_ . “Right. I need your help.” ****  
** **

“I will not help you with any report. I have told you that thousands of times before.” ****  
** **

“What?” Louis frowns. “No, that’s not it. Although I do think you should help us with our reports, given that we have so many of them,” He states, earning another glare from his boss. He sighs. “Right, okay. It’s not about reports.” He closes the door behind him and sits on one of the chairs across from Weber; he unlocks his phone, opens the stupid message and places the phone on the desk in front of the Captain. “Someone sent me this four days ago.” ****  
** **

“This is Harry, your fiancé,” Captain Weber frowns down at the phone before raising his eyes to meet Louis’, worried. “Why are you only telling me about this now?” ****  
** **

“I don’t know. I thought I’d know what to do by now, I guess. But I don’t, and I can’t sleep knowing there’s someone out there following him. I need your help.” ****  
** **

Captain Weber stares at him for a moment before nodding his head. “Of course I will help you, Tomlinson. I’m upset you didn’t come to me sooner.” ****  
** **

“Do you think we can track the number?” Louis asks, hopeful. He knows it’s a long shot, though. ****  
** **

“We’ll try our best. Have you told anyone else about this?”  ****  
** **

“No.” ****  
** **

“Well, good. Maybe you should, though. Isn’t Detective Stewart your best friend?”  ****  
** **

“I don’t wanna worry anybody. I haven’t even told Harry about it.” ****  
** **

“You know you should, so he will be careful when he’s alone.” Captain Weber advises knowingly as he types furiously on his laptop. ****  
** **

Louis frowns down at his hands on the table, his heart beating fast and his head running wild.  ****  
** **

“I just don’t want him to be afraid,” Louis confesses almost in a whisper. “I’ll protect him.” ****  
** **

“You do as you might, Tomlinson,” Weber looks at him briefly only to go back to typing. “It’s only my opinion.” ****  
** **

“I know.” ****  
** **

“I’m in.” ****  
** **

“What?” Louis widens his eyes at him. “What do you mean?” ****  
** **

“I tracked the number.” ****  
** **

“But — what?!” ****  
** **

“That’s a dumb person, right here. Couldn’t even afford to get a phone he could throw away.” ****  
** **

“You tracked the number?!” Louis almost jumps over the table. “Where is it?” ****  
** **

“Yorkville.” ****  
** **

“What the fuck is someone from Yorkville doing all the way back here? Fuck.” ****  
** **

“Let’s find out,” Captain Weber stands up from his chair, wearing his coat which was hung at the back of it.  ****  
** **

“What? Now?” ****  
** **

“Yes, now. Of course. What do you think?” ****  
** **

“It’s just — I, um. I don’t know,” Louis stutters while the Captain glares at him, annoyed. “Right. Okay, let’s go.”

****

***

****

Captain Weber is a fast driver, so it doesn't take too long until they are parked in front of a gray house in Yorkville.

Louis hesitates to get out of the car for a moment until the Captain looks at him from the driver's seat.

"Are you alright, Tomlinson?"

He swallows dry, then, because the answer is that he doesn't know how to quite feel about the situation. He's angry, that's for sure, but he's also so confused and worried he can't even calm his heart down for a single second.

"I'm alright, I think," He gives as an answer, trying to sound as honest as he wants to be. "I just wanna catch the guy and beat his ass up."

"There will be no beating up, Detective," His Captain tells him with a scowl.

Louis shrugs and eventually they get out of the car — Captain Weber with a serious face and Louis with a tight chest.

They walk through the small front yard until they are climbing the few stairs steps that lead them to the front door. Louis has a hand holding his gun underneath his jacket while Captain Weber is looking through the window to see if there's anything suspicious inside.

Louis has a bad feeling about all of this already.

"There isn't anyone home, it seems." Captain Weber states after trying to open the door, making Louis feel a little bit more at ease, but still. Everything feels wrong.

"What do we do?" Louis asks.

"What do you want to do? It's your case, after all. You're leading."

Louis widens his eyes in surprise. Right, Captain Weber is giving him a choice. This is _really_ his case, after all. It's a personal one. They should definitely try getting inside and see if they could find something about this person who's keeping Louis worried sick throughout every night. It needs to end already.

"We should go in," Louis says decisively, then, "Take a look around and all that."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Captain Weber nods at him while he gets what it looks like a clip from his jacket pocket. "So, we can open the door."

"Okay."

With a fine skill that Louis didn't know his Captain had until now, the door is opened after five seconds, causing Louis to blink at Weber in surprise.

"That was fast," Louis compliments him. "You gotta teach me that sometime, _dog_."

Captain Weber straightens up and glares at Louis. _Gosh_ , he was just trying to lighten the mood, given that he's worried and nervous out of his mind.

"Don't ever call me dog again, Detective Tomlinson." It's what he's told.

He rolls his eyes as he slowly steps into the house. "Fine, _dog_ ," he murmurs only to hear his boss let out an annoyed huff behind him. "Just admit that you like it. We're kinda _besties_."

"Tomlinson, this is a serious matter. Stop joking around," Captain Weber scowls at him.

Louis shrugs once again while he steps further into the house. He's surprised to see a tidy living room, which looks almost the same as his mother's — except for the gray couch, white walls and blue rug centered under the coffee table between the couch and the TV on a small brown wooden shelf. It all looks so clean and quiet that he can't imagine the person threatening him and Harry living there.

"Let's just focus on trying to find anything that could be an identification," Louis suggests after a few long seconds of silence.

Captain Weber nods at him in response.

They start off at the living room, looking inside the shelf drawers, under the couch and even inside the couch. Louis tries to leave everything exactly as it was when he walks to the kitchen, finding it as clean as the previous room.

He goes for the drawers first, finding nothing but ordinary kitchen stuff. Captain Weber is still in the living room, checking everything twice. Louis figures he should do the same in the kitchen. He even looks in the fridge, being surprised once again to find it stuffed with all different kinds of food. _This is so weird_ — it just looks like an ordinary person's house. This can't be it.

He goes back to the living room with a tight chest and a headache.

"Did you find anything?" Captain Weber asks him from his spot kneeling in front of the couch.

"No," Louis tells him. "We should go to the bedrooms, maybe we'll — "

Louis is interrupted by a loud crash coming from one of the bedrooms further into the house. He widens his eyes as his heart starts beating so fast it actually hurts.

 _Fuck_ , they're not alone.

"Yes, I heard that too, Tomlinson," Captain Weber hisses with worry in his eyes.

 _Oh_ , so Louis said that aloud and hadn't even realized.

He swallows dry as he keeps looking at his boss for guidance. Fuck, he knows he should be leading this, but this is way too much for him. The person in the house with them is probably the one who was following Harry around and taking pictures of him. How is Louis supposed to be chilled right now?

Captain Weber nods at him in understandingly. "Let's go," he mouths.

Louis quietly follows him behind further into the house to the four rooms left. Captain Weber kicks the first door closest to them open and raises his gun up to whoever could be inside, but there's no one.

Louis frowns at himself — what is he doing, hiding behind his boss from something he should be owning up? He shakes his head and shoulders as in to get rid of all the worries and nervousness at the moment and bravely walks to the opposite door, kicking it open forcefully.

Just like he was hoping, there's a destroyed lamp lying on the floor, which is probably what caused the loud sound of something crashing. He swallows his hesitancy down and tells his heart to calm the fuck down, so he can ace this scene.

"Whoever you are, show yourself right now," Louis demands in a loud and steady voice as he slowly steps into the room, his arms raised with his gun in hands. "We know you're here. Fucking show your face, or I swear I will —"

He's interrupted once again when there's a heavy body colliding against his own, hard enough to take him to the ground with a loud thump, knocking all of the air from his lungs. His gun lands somewhere far from him on the floor.  He hisses in pain as he feels his back and shoulders complain about the collision, but forgets all about it when he realizes there's someone on top of him attempting to strangle the life out of him. He can't see the person's face due to the disturbing mask they're wearing (it looks like a clown, but Louis can't tell because it also looks like a demon), but he knows it's a man.

Instinctively, he reaches out for the man's wrists to try and loosen his grip, in hopes that it will stop him from squeezing his hands around his neck. He's kicking his legs, so he has a chance to kick the man somehow, however, his assailant is too heavy and his legs are too short reach. He is using his full weight to pin Louis, who is much smaller, to the ground.

 _This is it, then_ , it’s what he thinks as he keeps trying to kick the guy.  Flashes of Harry’s smile cross his mind as his vision begins to darken. He can’t get air in his lungs, big hands effectively cutting off his air supply and attempting to break his hyoid. He thinks that this is no way to die — without saying goodbye to the love of this fucking life and without telling him the truth to what was really going on. The last conversation between them was on the edge of a fight. _Fuck_ , this is terrible. He can’t believe this is happening.

He's starting to see black spots from the lack of oxygen when he feels Captain Weber throwing his body against the man, jostling him off of Louis’ body.  Louis can’t see, but he hopes Weber has his attacker pinned on the ground. Louis is wheezing with wide eyes as he tries to breathe normally again, gulping much needed air, making his sore throat burn.

"Detective, can you hear me?" He hears Captain Weber's voice calling for him over the blood rushing in his ears. His senses are slowly coming back to normal, just as his breathing. "Answer me, Detective."

"Yes. Yeah," His voice is raw, and it hurts to speak. He coughs attempting to clear it, and sits up. "Fucking son of a bitch," He reaches his hands up to his neck, hissing as his fingertips touch the sensitive skin there.

Louis looks at Captain Weber handcuffing the man with his heart hammering against his chest.

"Are you alright?" His boss looks at him when he stands up, offering him a helping hand.

"Yes. Thank you, sir. Fuck," Louis coughs once again as he grabs Weber's hand to stand up himself. "He was trying to fucking kill me."

Captain Weber is frowning deeply when he looks back down at the handcuffed man. He gets to one knee by his side and takes the mask off of him, revealing a black-haired man with the ugliest mustache of all time. However, once those dark brown eyes snap up at Louis, he feels his throat closing up as a fearful chill runs down his spine.

"Who are you?" Captain Weber demands in a low dark voice.

"I'm Dax," The mustache man answers easily, as if the fact that he's giving out his name isn't a big deal at all. That if it's even his real name. "I was sent to give a warning."

"Sent by whom?" Louis hears himself asking before he even knows he's going to do it.

The man only smirks, then, not giving them anything else. That seems to be enough for Captain Weber, though, who punches the guy on the face, knocking him out cold.

Louis widens his eyes, surprised.

"Let's get out of here," Captain Weber announces, standing up. "Help me get him to the car."

"Okay," Louis nods, still wide-eyed.

 

***

 

It's right after seven p.m when Louis gets home with a sore throat and bruised neck, which, of course, is the first thing Harry notices as soon as he looks at him from his cozy spot on the couch.

"What the hell happened?" Harry demands as he stands up from the couch and walks to Louis, meeting him halfway.

Suddenly, Louis is exhausted. The whole damn days was a disaster, from morning until this moment right now, when he feels like he can finally breathe. He crashes into Harry's arms because that seems like the only reasonable solution to everything that's happened.

"I missed you," Louis whispers against Harry's chest when he feels strong arms being wrapped around his shoulders. "I'm sorry for this morning."

"Lou," Harry murmurs against the top of Louis head. Louis can feel his warm breath moving blowing the short hairs on the top of his head, "What happened? You're hurt."

"This man we were trying to catch jumped on me and kinda tried to strangle me," Louis tells the truth. Well, at least half of it.

"God, Louis," Harry gasps as he squeezes his arms around Louis, holding him tight. "Are you okay? Fuck, Lou."

Louis feels bad, right then, because he isn't telling Harry what is really going on. They don't keep things from each other, ever. They're all about honesty, and it's always been one of Louis' favorite parts about their relationship, and now...now Louis doesn't even know what to do. He can't tell Harry everything without worrying the shit out of him, and that is the last thing he wants to happen. He wants to keep Harry safe without him knowing there's someone out there who wants Louis killed at all. It would break Harry to know any of that. He can't let that happen. He'll make everything okay.

"Captain Weber saved me," Louis says when Harry pulls him to the couch to sit between his legs with his back against Harry's front. "The man had his hands around my neck, and I was about to pass out or fucking die, I guess. Captain Weber jumped on the guy and saved me."

"Fuck, Lou," Harry wraps his arms around him once again, lacing their hands together. "Thank God. Thank God you're okay." He places the softest of all kisses on the side of Louis' neck. Louis squeezes his eyes shut tight at the feeling. "Sometimes I hate your job, you know," He confesses quietly, making Louis' heart hurt in the worst way possible.

"Me too, baby," Louis admits in a hushed voice, almost like a secret. And maybe it is, really. "I'm sorry."

He wishes Harry knew all the things he was sorry for, but he keeps it all to himself with a tight chest.

"I'm sorry for this morning, too, Lou."

Louis hates that Harry is apologizing when he has done nothing wrong at all. He wants to let Harry know that and spit everything out. However, he keeps his mouth shut and falls asleep with Harry's voice against his ear, murmuring soft words that make him think everything is okay just for that moment.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm so sorry for taking longer than I should have to post this chapter :( I just have so much work and stuff from uni to do! I wish I had more chapters to post so I could make it up to you guys! But, anyways, here it is! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I want to thank @wickedarcher_08 once again for helping me and being my beta! She's an amazing writer, you should check it out! She's posted two amazing Larry fanfics so far (Cool for the Summer and Baby One More Time).
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks again for the support, everyone <3

**COME HOME, 'CAUSE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU**

 

 _Tic-tac, tic-tac, tic-tac_.

That is the only sound Harry can focus right now just so he won't be annoyed with the drunk guy sat across from him singing Mamma Mia over and over again, — ruining the song for him because he actually loves it — and the woman sitting next to him, telling about how she caught her stupid boyfriend dick deep into a man's ass, claiming she had never thought he would be into that, which is the reason why she went to his house and burnt all of his clothes, which consequently set more than his clothes on fire.

There are at least ten more people besides those two that are getting Harry beyond his nerves, and he can't even get away from them. So, he has no other choice, but to focus on the clock hung on the wall above the window of Captain Weber's office. ****  
** **

_Just one look and I can hear a bell ring_ , the man keeps singing, making Harry's head hurt more and more with each word. If it was under any other circumstance, Harry would probably enjoy this man's voice because it's a _good singing voice_ , but he's doing it so fucking loud. The man is so drunk Harry can smell the alcohol on his breath even sitting across from him (it's probably not coming only from the man, but from every other person surrounding him, since half of them are probably drunk out of their minds). ****  
** **

_One more look and I forget everything_ , he keeps going, and Harry is losing his damn mind. He runs his hands over his face and grabs his hair on the top of his head, pulling it hard until it hurts. He looks up to stare at the clock on the wall again, trying his best to avoid all the knowing faces that spare a look at him from time to time. _This is ridiculous_ . ****  
** **

"I don't know why he wouldn't tell me he likes dick in the first place." The woman sitting next to him keeps going on and on about her now-gay boyfriend, gesturing wildly. "It's not like I'm a homophobe or anything! If he'd told me he liked sucking dick then I wouldn't have burnt his stupid gay clothes. Fuck, I should've known by the way he dresses!" ****  
** **

Two girls, who look a lot like just-out-of-teenage-years, sitting next to the drunk singing man nod their head with amused smiles on their faces. _Mamma Mia, here I go again_ , the man keeps singing in a slur while the woman keeps freaking out about her gay boyfriend, and the girls keep laughing at her. ****  
** **

"I should've burnt his dick." The woman flips her dirty blond hair back. "I can't believe he would do that to me. The least he could've done was inviting me to fuck with both of them!" ****  
** **

"That'd be hot." One of the girls laughs. _What is she even doing here?_ It's what Harry thinks. She looks like a twenty-one ordinary college girl. "I had sex with two boys at the same time once. They didn't fuck each other, though." ****  
** **

"I've also had sex with two men at the same time, stupid," The dirty-haired woman snaps. God, Harry wants to _die_. ** **  
****

_My, my, how can I resist you_ , the drunk singing man seems to get louder and louder each time. Harry is going to explode. ****  
** **

"Why are you complaining, then?" The other girl, who also looks like a twenty-one girl, only with more tattoos and piercings than Harry can count, asks with an arch of her brows. "Boo-hoo, your boyfriend is gay. Get over it. Find yourself another one, you're hot!" ****  
** **

"Damn right I am," The blonde agrees with a confident smirk. "He has a really nice dick, though. And is really good in bed." ****  
** **

Harry is going to die. He's dying. _Mamma Mia, does it show again_ . He groans loudly, but no one pays attention to his mental breakdown. He's breaking, he can feel it. _My, my, just how much I've missed you_ , he's tapping his foot on the ground quickly. He runs his hands over his face one more time before looking back at the clock and sighing deeply. _What the fuck is happening with time?_ It seems to be frozen in this exact same moment, somehow. Harry is living hell. This is hell; it must be. There's no other explanation. ****  
** **

"There are a lot of men who are good in bed, honey," The non-pierced girl says, dragging her eyes to Harry and smirking at him. "Like him! He looks like he's a good fuck." ****  
** **

"This one?" The woman asks as she turns to look at him, studying him from head to toes. "Well, I guess. He's not my type, though. He has a baby face, and I'm more into manly- _men_ , you know?" ****  
** **

Harry frowns and he doesn't even know why he's so fucking offended by that. That's extremely ridiculous; he's lost his mind. ****  
** **

_Yessss, I've been brokenhearted_ , the man screams, earning a glare from Harry, which doesn't make any difference, of course. _Bluuuue since the day we parted_ , the man is swinging side to side now, using his hands for big gestures. No one seems to mind his singing except Harry. ****  
** **

"He's my type alright." The tattooed girl with lots of piercings wiggles her brows at him. He wants to throw up. This isn't happening. ****  
** **

"You're not gay?" The ordinary college girl asks with a surprised tone, causing the other one to frown at her. "What?! You've got the vibe!" ****  
** **

"She's right," The blonde agrees. ****  
** **

_Why, why, did I ever let you go_ , the drunk man points at the dirty blond haired woman as he sings his drunken heart out. This is the most ridiculous situation Harry has ever been in. ****  
** **

"Why? Just because I've got piercings and tattoos?" The tattooed one asks offended, frowning. "That's ridiculous!" ****  
** **

That's something Harry can agree to. _Mamma Mia, now I really know_ , the man places his hands on his chest, slurring the words. Harry's head feels like it's going to explode, and, suddenly, he has the urge to cry. He has never done anything in his life to deserve this moment. He's a good person, he cares for people. He cares _about_ people. He gives money to charity, and he's a volunteer on the day before Christmas to help cook meals for the poor. Harry used to go to an orphanage to play guitar to children when he was still in college, and he would always babysit for his neighbors when he was fifteen and still lived with his parents. ****  
** **

He can't think of one thing that could have ever led him to this hell. ****  
** **

_My, my, I could never let you go_ , the man all but shouts, earning a little applause from some of the people sitting with them. Harry has to hold himself back from telling them to rot in hell, just like he is right now. ****  
** **

"Hey, don't be so offended, we're not judging you or anything," The ordinary girl states with a shrug. ****  
** **

Harry takes a deep breath as the man starts singing again. ****  
** **

"Yeah, didn't you hear me telling about my gay boyfriend?" The woman asks between loud chuckles. "He was —" ****  
** **

"Yes, Marin, everybody fucking heard your motherfucking story about your stupid gay boyfriend!" Harry snaps, right then. He can't take it anymore. His voice is so loud it gets the drunk singing man to stop his stupid singing only to stare at him with wide eyes, just like most of all the people there with him. "He was fucking some random guy and you burnt his fucking house! We got it, alright?! We've all heard about it!" ****  
** **

"Hey, little fucker, don't yell at me with that stupid pretty babyface of yours!" She points a finger at him, making him roll his eyes in annoyance. ****  
** **

"Yeah, fucker! Don't yell at her!" The tattooed girl yells right back at him, and he doesn't even know why she's not taking his side given that the woman she's defending has just told her she looks like she's gay just because she has tattoos and piercings. ****  
** **

"You can all go to —" ****  
** **

"Harry." He's interrupted by Kristen's voice coming from the other side of the fucking cell Harry is being held to. "Come with me." ****  
** **

He's breathing heavily when he walks to the door she's opening, her eyes careful as she watches him step out with the two girls and a dirty blond-haired woman calling him names. ****  
** **

"Yeah, you get this dick away from here!" The tattooed girl shouts at them as Kristen drags Harry away from the cell by his wrist, pulling him to what he thinks it's going to be the interrogation room. ****  
** **

_Fuck, he's being interrogated?_ ****  
** **

"Alright," Kristen sighs and plops herself down on the chair once they're inside the room. She nods to the chair across from her, silently asking him to sit. "Are you okay?" ****  
** **

Harry lets out an annoyed huff, sitting down and placing his arms on the table between them both. He rests his head rest against the cold material of the table and groans loudly. ****  
** **

"I've been stuck here for four hours, Kristen. What the fuck do you think? I'm not fucking okay." ****  
** **

He hears her quiet laugh, which makes him raise his head from the table to glare at her. ****  
** **

"I've never heard you curse so much like you just did." She shrugs, justifying her reasons as to why she thinks this is funny. "But hey, don't snap at me. I'm the one bailing you out." ****  
** **

He widens his eyes at her, then, surprised. "You paid my bail?" he asks dumbly. ****  
** **

"Of course I did. You think I would let you spend the night?" Kristen questions him with a frown and he shrugs, resting his head back down on the table again. ****  
** **

"I'm so fucking stupid," he says, his voice is muffled by his arms and table. ****  
** **

"Yes, I agree." He doesn't need to look at Kristen to know she's got a sarcastic smile on her face. "What the hell were you thinking, Harry? ****  
** **

"I don't know," he groans, dragging the last word for a bit. He straightens up to look at her, blinking away the frustrating tears that are demanding him to let then free. "I've been left in the dark long enough, now, I needed to do something!" ****  
** **

"What were you even doing there, Harry? All the way in Yorkville. You're lucky they brought you straight to our Precinct because they knew who you were." ****  
** **

"I was just — you know what? I don't need to tell you anything! I'm finally doing something to get Louis out of this mess, while you bunch ain't doing anything." ****  
** **

Kristen squints her eyes at him before chuckling humorlessly, "You've got the fucking nerve to say that. You're doing what, exactly? So far, the only thing you managed to do was get yourself in trouble. How did you end up in Yorkville? Why did you go there?" ****  
** **

He hesitates before deciding the right and best thing to do is to let Kristen know how he got himself into this mess, "I found a number Louis wrote in a notepad," he starts, running his hands over his face with a deep sigh. "I called the number. Someone called Liam Payne, a private investigator, answered and said he knew Louis and had been working with him for a while. We met for lunch, he gave me some files that led me to Yorkville." ****  
** **

"Liam Payne?" Kristen frowns at him, but something in her eyes tells Harry that she knows who he's talking about. ****  
** **

"Yes. He even said he wanted to work with me on this because he thinks Louis is a great guy. Turns out he's a lying prick who's set me up." ****  
** **

"Well, it really was a setup. Are you sure he's the one who did it, though?" Kristen asks. "They're running some DNA tests on the stuff, anyway. Did you touch anything?" ****  
** **

"Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? He gave me the files and then BAM!" he huffs. "I don't remember if I touched anything, Kristen. Why would they even run DNA tests? They caught me on the scene." ****  
** **

"Because I'm your friend, jackass. I told them they should fucking do it because, of course, you were there by mistake. You have to tell them what you were doing there." ****  
** **

"How can I tell them what I was doing there?  I am supposed to tell them what? _Hey, I was creeping on someone else's house because Louis went to our place, and I think he's in danger. Oh! It's all related to this fucking Ivanov case_ ." ****  
** **

"Yeah, you can't tell them that," she sighs, running one of her hands through her short blond hair. "We'll figure it out. They won't keep you in custody anymore, though. You can go home for the night." ****  
** **

"How much did you have to pay, Kris? I'll pay you back as soon as I get my phone and can transfer it to you." ****  
** **

"No, Harry, you don't need to —" ****  
** **

"Kristen. Of course, I need to pay you. Are you crazy? How much?" ****  
** **

"Five thousand." ****  
** **

Harry sighs deeply, nodding. "Yeah, okay. I'll transfer it to you tonight." ****  
** **

"Harry." She looks at him, reaching for his hands on the table. He rolls his eyes at her. ****  
** **

"I have the money, alright? Why do you look so worried? I get by really well with my job, and Louis' helps a lot, too. Why are you looking at me like that?" ****  
** **

"Because you've been through hell these past few weeks, and I just wanna be your friend." ****  
** **

"You'll be a better friend if you let me pay you without looking at me like that." He tells her with a frown. "Thank you for everything, but I can't _not_ pay you for this, alright?" ****  
** **

Kristen nods at him, then. "Okay, of course." ****  
** **

"What time is it, anyway?" ****  
** **

"Almost six," she says after looking at her wristwatch. ****  
** **

"Fuck." He rests back on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm so fucking tired." ****  
** **

"I figured," She smiles sadly at him, making him want to scream at her for looking at him like that. "You should probably call Sarah when you get home." ****  
** **

He blinks at her, confused, "What? Why?" ****  
** **

"She called your phone twenty times, seriously. I figured she was really worried, so I answered on the twentieth time and told her you forgot your phone here at the station when you came to talk about something we found out about Louis missing." ****  
** **

He blinks at her, "What the hell am I supposed to tell her? She'll want to know what you supposedly found out." ****  
** **

"Well, you're a journalist. You're creative. You'll be fine." ****  
** **

"Damn, Kristen," he scowls. "God. I wanna go home." ****  
** **

"Come on." She stands up from her chair and nods to the door. "I'll take you." ****  
** **

"Bless your soul," He follows her with a heavy heart, but glad he'll be able to lie down in his bed just so he can pretend everything is fine in his life.

****

***

****

"I told you I'm fine, Sarah." Harry sighs into the phone while Kristen drives him to his home. "I forgot my phone, that's all." ****  
** **

"Well, next time you warn me about it!" Sarah sounds angry on the other line, causing Harry to roll his eyes fondly but also get a little bit annoyed. ****  
** **

"How am I supposed to know I'm going to forget something and warn you about it?" ****  
** **

"I don't know, you figure it out." She huffs. "I'm worried about you, Harry, you know that. I also miss you a lot, can we meet up sometime this week? You'll be back for work on Monday and that's too far away." ****  
** **

"I know, I'm sorry." He tells her honestly. "I'll text you tomorrow, okay? I don't feel like going out." ****  
** **

"Well, I can always go to your place. How about tonight? We can watch a movie or something. I'll let Mitch know and —" ****  
** **

"No, please." He shakes his head as if she can see him. "I don't feel like doing anything right now. Maybe tomorrow. I promise I'll text you." ****  
** **

There's a second or more of silence before he hears Sarah sighing deeply. "Right," she says, "We'll talk tomorrow, then. Good night, Haz." ****  
** **

"Night, Sarah. Talk to you later." He hangs up with a tight chest, and, when he turns his head to look at Kristen, she's already giving him those pity eyes he hates so much. "What?" ****  
** **

"Maybe you should meet your friends." She shrugs. ****  
** **

"I don't want to. I wanna get home and sleep, is that so hard to understand?" He frowns at her, but she's already looking back at the road. "This day feels like it's been going on for weeks." ****  
** **

Kristen doesn't say anything until she's parked the car in front of Harry's building, hands tight around the wheel when she turns her head to look at him, a sad frown on her face. ****  
** **

"I'm really sorry all of this happened, Harry," She says empathetically. "I wish I could help more." ****  
** **

"You're doing everything you can, Kris," he reaches out for one of her hands on the wheel to hold. "I'm sorry I was a dick to you earlier, it's just that — it's too much to deal with. I'll be fine, though. Thank you for everything." ****  
** **

She nods with a soft but sad smile. "Get some rest, okay?" she says, "Call me if you need anything." ****  
** **

"Thank you." He squeezes her hand. "I'll see you later." ****  
** **

Harry gets out of the car with his messenger bag squeezed tight onto his side and walks quickly inside the building, not bothering to greet any familiar faces as he makes his way to the elevator. ****  
** **

He blocks away the same old songs playing (which is just annoying, by now) and waits not so patiently for the lift to stop on his floor. When it does, he takes a relieved sigh as he walks to his door, unlocking it. When he closes the door behind him and rests his back against it, he allows himself to let a few tears roll down his face as he lets the day he's just had sink in. ****  
** **

_No one should go through this kind of shit, right?_ It's what he thinks to himself when he drops his bag on the floor by the door and walks to the kitchen to find something to eat, even though he's not really that hungry. ****  
** **

He goes for a peach yogurt and silently eats it after grabbing a spoon from the top drawer by the sink, resting his bottom on it with his eyes fixed on the floor. He doesn't bother trying to stop his mind from telling him he's useless when it comes to helping the love of his life, really — what's the point? It's the truth. Louis is out there somewhere, hiding from people who are trying to kill him while all Harry can do is get himself into a mess when he tries to help. ****  
** **

He has no idea what he's supposed to do anymore — he trusted someone without even really knowing them first and got himself into this situation. He's probably a target now, as much as Louis is too. There's probably someone out there plotting to kill him in his sleep or something. ****  
** **

He's useless. Maybe he should have stayed behind bars just so he won't cause any more trouble to anyone. ****  
** **

Harry sighs deeply as he throws the empty yogurt cup in the trash on the sink, turning the tap on to wash his hands. ****  
** **

He looks around the empty kitchen and living room, thinking that it's probably time for him to get a dog or a cat, because maybe then it won't feel like this anymore — like an empty hole swallowing him up. ****  
** **

Harry shakes his head as if to send away all these stupid thoughts and starts to make his way to his bedroom, not really looking forward to spending just another night all by himself, with nothing but his fears and damned thoughts. ****  
** **

It's only when he opens the door to his bedroom that he realizes he should have asked Kristen to go up with him, and it's a deja vu, only this time with bits of difference. ****  
** **

There's someone standing by the window while looking out at the city, and Harry knows who it is by the way they carry their body when they slowly turn around to look at him. ****  
** **

Harry knows who it is even with the ugly gray worn out jersey covering their upper body or the horrible brown sweatpants covering their strong legs. Harry knows who it is even with those green sneakers they would never wear or that stupid ugly-ass black cap covering their beautiful soft brown hair. ****  
** **

Harry knows who it is even when those blue eyes look at him with an anger they've never used on him before. ****  
** **

Harry's heart is beating so fast he might have a heart attack. _So this is what it took for him to come back?_ It's the first thing that crosses his mind, _maybe I should've gotten arrested a long time ago, then._ ****  
** **

"Louis," he breathes and it sounds like years of pleading and begging. It sounds like thousands of pounds of weight was just lifted from his shoulders and he can finally take a deep breath. ****  
** **

Louis is standing there, with dagger eyes fixed on him as if silently judging him about something, and Harry wants to scream at him. He wants to jump on him and squeeze him in his arms until they're both breathless. Harry wants to kiss him numb at the same time as he wants to punch his stupid beautiful face. ****  
** **

"What the fuck were you thinking?" It's what Louis says after going so long without saying anything at all to Harry, who now frowns at him with a breaking heart and unleashed tears rolling down his cheeks without him even realizing. ****  
** **

"What?" He chokes, his voice in a whisper as Louis takes a few steps until he's right in front of Harry. ****  
** **

Harry can't believe his eyes — he wants to touch to make sure Louis is real and right there. It's been too long, and he doesn't know how to deal with anything and everything. ****  
** **

"What the hell were you thinking, Harry? What were you doing in Yorkville?" Louis questions in a demanding voice. Harry widens his eyes at him, confused as to how he would know about this. "I told you not to do anything stupid!" ****  
** **

Harry is blinking slowly at him, the stupid tears wetting his cheeks and lips all over. ****  
** **

"You — Louis. You've been gone for so long, and this is —" Harry can't even form a proper sentence without his voice shaking. He laughs humorlessly, then, taking a deep breath with closed eyes before opening them to look at Louis intensely. "This is how you wanna speak to me after so long? Calling me stupid?" ****  
** **

"Harry —" ****  
** **

"How do you even know about this? And what's up with you sneaking inside the apartment and scaring the shit out of me?!" He demands in an explosion of feelings; just like the last time, Harry pushes Louis by the shoulders, angry out of his mind. Louis looks at him with pain in his eyes besides the burning anger. "You walk away just to come back, and tell me I'm fucking stupid for trying to help your ass?!" ****  
** **

"Harry, I told you to stay out of this!" Louis grips Harry's wrists and pulls him close, their faces inches apart. "I don't want you to get hurt. Don't you get it? How could you have thought that going to Yorkville would be a good idea?" ****  
** **

"I don't care!" Harry tries to get away from him, but Louis is stronger this time, given that Harry is a crying mess right now. "I don't care that you told me to stay out of this. You were gone and in danger, what did you expect me to do?!" ****  
** **

"What do you mean in danger? Harry, I'm okay. I'm not hurt and no one is gonna hurt me. I will —" ****  
** **

"I got a text from someone who was clearly threatening you. How was I supposed to think you were okay? You came here and walked right out. What the hell am I supposed to think?!" ****  
** **

"You got a text?" Louis squeezes Harry's wrists tight, causing him to groan. ****  
** **

"Stop that. You're hurting me," Harry whispers, making Louis blink up at him and pull his hands away. ****  
** **

"I'm sorry," he says. Harry notices his eyes are watering but doesn't say or do anything about it. "They're sending you texts now?" ****  
** **

"I got only one," Harry tells him as he wraps his right hand on his left wrist, caressing it until it doesn't hurt that much. Louis watches the movement with sad eyes. "I had to do something." ****  
** **

"I can't have you getting hurt, Harry. Please. _Please_ , don't do anything else," Louis pleads when their eyes meet once again. "It was stupid of you to go there all by yourself." ****  
** **

"I'm sorry for wanting to help," Harry says with a sarcastic tone of voice. "And I'm sorry if you were working with an asshole." ****  
** **

"What?" Louis frowns, confused. ****  
** **

"I found Liam Payne's number in a notepad and called him. He said he worked with you, and he was the one to lead me to Yorkville." ****  
** **

"Harry," Louis sighs and reaches out to hold Harry's hand. Harry pulls away, though. "I did work with him, but he isn't an asshole. He's helped me a lot." ****  
** **

"Well, it was a setup," Harry states. "He was the one to give me the files that led me there." ****  
** **

"He wouldn't." Louis shakes his head, and Harry frowns at him. "He wouldn't, Harry. This was someone else." ****  
** **

"How would you know, huh? How are you even here, Louis? How do you know I went to Yorkville at all?" ****  
** **

"You think I haven't been keeping track of you?" Louis whispers, stepping even closer. ****  
** **

"What?" Harry blinks at him, swallowing dry. ****  
** **

"I saw your face when you realized you had to do something, sitting by yourself on Central Park," ****  
** **

"You were there?" Harry gasps. ****  
** **

"I followed you to Yorkville, and, when I saw you going into that house, I called the police." ****  
** **

"You what?!" ****  
** **

"You think I would've let you stay there all alone? Are you crazy? Do you even know whose house that is?" ****  
** **

"You called the fucking police on me?" Harry pushes him again, harder this time. ****  
** **

"Of course I did," Louis confirms after being pushed again. He doesn't complain about it yet. "I couldn't go there myself without being recognized by someone, so I had to do something about it!" ****  
** **

"Fuck you, Louis!" Harry pushes him again and again until Louis is done, grabbing him by the wrist one more time and forcing him against the wall by the door, pressing him against it. "Let go of me!" ****  
** **

"Remember that one time when a perp tried to strangle me and Captain Weber saved me?" Louis asks him in a hushed voice as Harry tries to free himself. ****  
** **

"Yes," He says. "What does it have to do with anything?" He tries to kick Louis' ankle, but Louis is faster when he presses his whole front against Harry's, keeping him still. ****  
** **

"That house you went into, that's where it happened. Someone tried to kill me in that house, Harry." ****  
** **

"What?" He whispers shakily. ****  
** **

"So, yeah, I called the fucking police on you because I could never let anything happen to you. Ever. What were you thinking? You didn't even have a gun on you, did you?" ****  
** **

"No," ****  
** **

"Harry." Louis frowns at him. ****  
** **

"I had to do something! Don't you get it? You keep saying you can't let anything happen to me, but I can't let anything happen to you either! You've left me in the dark in here, Louis, what the hell do you want me to do? Move on with my miserable life? Well, guess what? I can't!" ****  
** **

"Baby," Louis speaks softer, closing his eyes before resting his forehead on Harry's shoulder, causing his cap to fall off his head. "I don't want you to move on with your life without me," he admits. "I just want you to not do anything stupid that would get you hurt." ****  
** **

"You've been following me around?" ****  
** **

"Not really. I mean." Louis takes a deep breath after placing his nose and lips against Harry's neck. "Not every day. Whenever I can, which is most of the time when I'm not working on something." ****  
** **

"Don't leave me in the dark like this," Harry asks him with his eyes closed as he feels his skin being softly kissed by those lips he's missed so much. "I'm going mad without you." ****  
** **

"Harry." ****  
** **

"Louis, I mean it," Harry places his hands on Louis' shoulders and pulls him away for a moment, blue and green meeting once again. "You can't keep me in the dark this way only to come back and scream at me for doing something about it. How are you even here? Won't people find you?" ****  
** **

"I'm sorry for screaming," Louis says while he places his hands on Harry's love handles. "I'm just so worried all the time," he admits with a sigh. "They won't find me, don't worry." ****  
** **

"How do you know that?" Harry frowns. ****  
** **

"Because they know I wouldn't be stupid enough to come back here," Louis tells him easily. ****  
** **

"But you _are_ here." ****  
** **

"I know, but they don't." ****  
** **

"Louis, you're careless. Don't do this. And, fuck. I miss you so much, but I'm so fucking angry at you." ****  
** **

"I'm sorry, baby." Louis places a kiss on his neck again. "I'm really sorry. I have to go, okay? But this will be over soon, I promise." ****  
** **

"No," Harry grips his shoulders. "No, you're not going now. Not so soon, no." ****  
** **

"Baby, I have to, please," Louis looks at him with dark heavy eyes. "Don't do this." ****  
** **

"You're not going." Harry shakes his head. "No." ****  
** **

"Harry." ****  
** **

"You go now, you don't need to fucking come back, alright?" ****  
** **

"Baby, you don't mean that. I have to go because I don't want you to get hurt, and I don't want _me_ getting hurt. They might not know I'm here now, but that can happen any time." ****  
** **

"No!" Harry grips him tighter. "You stay right here, Louis. I swear to god." ****  
** **

"Harry." Louis raises his hands to cup Harry's jaw sweetly, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. "Baby, I love you." ****  
** **

"I mean it, Louis." Harry is frantic. ****  
** **

He doesn't even know what to feel — it's too much to feel all at once, and it's overwhelming. ****  
** **

"I have to go but we'll see each other again soon, okay? Don't do anything stupid, please." ****  
** **

Harry is shaking his head while gripping Louis' shoulders as if his life depended on it. _No, he can't go._ Louis can't leave him again. ****  
** **

"No." ****  
** **

"Harry, you know I —" ****  
** **

Harry doesn't let him finish, though, because then he's pressing his lips against Louis', and it's like everything is finally coming together. Finally, everything feels right again. ****  
** **

Harry wraps his arms around Louis' shoulders to get him closer and presses their lips harder because, no, he can't have Louis walking away again. This is how they belong — together and touching, feeling and breathing each other. ****  
** **

Louis kisses him right back, then, because how could he not? They haven't kissed in ages, and Harry can't have that any longer. So it's no surprise when Louis is the first one to open his mouth and seek for shelter into Harry's with his tongue. Harry sighs in relief when he opens his own mouth, deepening the kiss in a second, making everything feel a thousand times more intense. ****  
** **

Louis is touching Harry everywhere, as if he can't decide where he wants to touch more, and Harry wants _everything_ . He wants so much it feels like he might explode into one thousand stars due to how bright he suddenly feels. This is what it feels like to be alive for the first time after weeks of nothing at all. Harry knows he's still crying as he lets Louis kiss him fiercely, but he can't help himself — it's all too much. Louis is too much of everything. Louis is the sun, and he's the air Harry breathes. Louis is the one who makes Harry's heart beat for love at the same time it beats with anger, like right now. ****  
** **

God,  Harry is so angry. He wants Louis to know this, so he kisses him like it. Harry kisses Louis' lips numb and bites them like he's been hungry for it for ages (it's not even a lie). ****  
** **

"Fuck, Louis," Harry breathes against Louis' lips when he pulls away for air. "I hate you so much." ****  
** **

"No." Louis shakes his head and steals a quick and hard kiss from Harry's lips before diving into his neck to suck a love bite right there. "No, you don't. Don't say that." ****  
** **

"I don't want you to leave," Harry whispers with his eyes closed as he feels Louis' lips draw invisible lines on his neck. "Just take me with you to wherever the fuck you are." ****  
** **

"You're reckless," Louis chuckles against his jaw. "I don't want to leave, you know that." ****  
** **

"Then don't." Harry grabs his jaw and pulls him away to look into his eyes. "Stay here, and let's deal with this together." ****  
** **

Louis blinks at him quietly before deciding he would rather kiss Harry than having to come up with a response to his wish. So, Louis kisses him hard, until their lips are red and sore. Louis kisses him until Harry is panting against him and moving his hips against his own as he looks for some kind of friction and, _fuck_ , Harry wants him so bad. It's been too long. This is too much. Harry is just as horny as he is livid and doesn't know how to deal with anything at all right now. ****  
** **

The only thing he knows is that he wants Louis to stay here; he wants Louis to be entirely his once again, which is why Harry guides him backward until he's on top of Louis, with hands gripping tight on his love handles underneath his jacket. ****  
** **

"Fuck, take these off," Louis demands with a low voice as he unbuttons Harry's shirt at the same time as he helps Harry slide his jacket down his arms. "Off, off. Off, now." ****  
** **

Harry throws the jacket on the floor along with his shirt after it's finally unbuttoned, leaning down to kiss Louis once more.

"Haz, fuck. Baby," Louis moans softly when Harry moves his hips in a circle, his ass perfectly sat on Louis' crotch. "I missed you so much. I miss you all the time." He runs his hands over the expanse of Harry's back until they're back on his love handles, squeezing it tight. "I love you so much." ****  
** **

"Shut up," Harry groans against Louis' lips. He doesn't want to hear it because it actually hurts. "Please." ****  
** **

He's choked up as he kisses Louis' lips hard, trying his best to keep those stupid tears to himself. He doesn’t remember feeling this enraged before — there Louis is, kissing him back like there’s nothing else in the world he would rather be doing, and Harry knows this is actually the way he feels right now, however, he can’t help but want to scream at him for ever leaving him in the dark like this. At the same time, though, he also feels like his heart is about to collapse due to the intensity of everything.  ****  
** **

His hands are glued to Louis’ jaw as they kiss fiercely. Their tongues are meeting like long lost friends who are just now realizing they have been in love the whole time; Louis’ hands wander over Harry’s chest, igniting his skin with every touch of his fingers, and making him groan in pleasure as he circles his hips again and again.  ****  
** **

Harry is eager to take Louis’ jersey off, so he’s quick to pull it up his chest and lean down to suck a bruise over his left nipple, causing Louis to hiss in pain and squeeze Harry’s hips so hard it hurts for a moment.  ****  
** **

“Take this stupid thing off,” Harry grunts when he pulls the jersey up. Louis raises his torso up to help Harry take it off over his head and arms. “Throw this away, for fuck’s sake.” ****  
** **

“I knew you’d hate this,” Louis chuckles breathlessly when he rests his back against the mattress again, his hands now wrapped around Harry’s neck while pulling him down to kiss his lips once more, sweeter this time.  ****  
** **

“I hate everything about this very moment,” Harry lies breathy against Louis’ lips. Louis pulls away from the kiss, looking right into Harry’s eyes with worry and guilt. Harry hates himself right then. “You know I didn’t mean that,” He admits quietly, his heart beating fast. “Although, I’m so fucking angry at you.” ****  
** **

“Don’t be,” Louis whispers back, getting their lips together for what it feels like the thousandth time. “I miss you.” ****  
** **

“Yeah,” Harry breathes, licking into Louis’ mouth and shutting him up. ****  
** **

It’s silent after that, except for the way they’re breathing and moaning with every little touch. It doesn’t take very long for them to take their pants off, leaving nothing but their underwear on their bodies. Harry’s movements are frantic now — the kisses are as angry as he is, now, and his hips are moving in circles as Harry presses his ass down against Louis’ hard cock.  ****  
** **

When Harry pull their lips apart, it is only so he can trail kisses down Louis’ neck and chest until he’s right on fours with his lips placing hot kisses over the band of his briefs, which doesn’t take long to be dragged over Louis’ legs and thrown on the floor by Harry, freeing his pretty thick pink cock for Harry to see, making his mouth water at the sight. He touches it, then, after so long, and it feels just as amazing to him as it seems to feel to Louis, who moans loudly when Harry wraps his hand around it, squeezing it lightly. ****  
** **

“Fuck, baby,” Louis grunts, moving his hips up in reflex to the touch. Harry places his free hand on Louis’ hip to keep him down in place. “Fuck, _fuck_ ,” he moans louder when Harry moves his hand up and then down for the first time

“Stay still,” Harry demands as he lightly squeezes Louis’ cock one more time before moving his hand again, starting at a slow pace, as if they had all the time in the world. Harry wishes they did. ****  
** **

Harry watches Louis raise his head from the pillow to look at him only to bring it back down with a roll of his eyes as he moans breathlessly, his chest moving up and down in sync with his breathing and now Harry’s movement that has quickened up its pace. Harry touches the tip of Louis’ cock for a moment, using its precome to make it easier to slide his hand back down before placing his mouth around the head and sucking it lightly. ****  
** **

“Harry.” Louis drags his name in a loud moan, causing his cock to throb underneath his briefs. “Fuck yeah, baby.” ****  
** **

Harry doesn’t take long to swallow Louis’ cock down until the head is right against his throat and his nose is touching Louis’ skin. He wastes no time and starts moving his head up and down, licking the thick vein on the base of Louis’ cock from time to time, so he can breathe before going down again. He keeps his eyes on Louis to watch him fall apart on his mouth, sucking his cock as if his life depended on it. He sucks it as if it is the last thing he’ll ever get to do, and he’s so fucking angry. He wants to suck Louis dry and make him beg for more at the same time as he wants to stop and make Louis leave.  ****  
** **

“Baby, fuck. Stop, please?” Louis asks him when he tangles his fingers on Harry’s hair and pulls it softly. “If you don’t, I’m gonna come. Please.” ****  
** **

Harry gives one last deep suck to the head of Louis’ cock and then climbs his way back up to face Louis and kisses him hard, making him taste himself on Harry’s mouth. He reaches for the top drawer of the bedside table as they kiss messily, opening it to grab a small bottle of lube and a box of condoms.  ****  
** **

“I wanna fuck you,” Harry breathes against Louis’ mouth hoarsely.  ****  
** **

“Fuck,” Louis whines as he wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders and pulls him tight against his chest. “Yeah, fuck. I want that, too. Yes, please.” ****  
** **

Harry kneels between Louis’ spread legs and quickly takes his briefs off, finally freeing his hard as a rock cock. Louis eyes him up hungrily, licking his lips slowly when Harry grabs his own cock in his hand. “You want it, baby?” Harry asks lowly, causing Louis’ to whimper in response. “I’ll give it to you, then.” ****  
** **

Harry places his hands on both sides of Louis’ head, moving his hips down, so their cocks can touch in a delicious way that makes their eyes roll back in pleasure. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, Lou,” Harry whispers against Louis’ neck before sucking a bruise right on his juncture. “You’re gonna feel it for days. You’ll come back for more.” ****  
** **

“Harry,” Louis pleads as his hands glue to Harry’s ass, squeezing it tight. “Baby.” ****  
** **

“Please, come back.” Harry’s voice shakes. He’s moving his hips so their cocks have some kind of friction to give them some relief. “I hate that you’re not here.” ****  
** **

“Please.”  ****  
** **

“Yes, love.” Harry raises his head from Louis’ neck to look those blue eyes which always give him so much to feel. “I’ll give you everything you need.” ****  
** **

Harry grabs the bottle of lube he’s left on the top of the bedside table and squeezes some of it into his fingers to wet them. “Put your legs up, babe,” he says softly, watching as Louis’ does as he’s told, folding his legs up and spreading his asscheeks apart, putting his pretty hole to sight. Harry groans quietly as he guides his fingers to it, circling the rim softly to wet it enough before inserting one finger to the knuckle. Louis whines loudly as his hips jerks at the feeling. ****  
** **

“Fuck, Harry.” Louis places his hands on his head, tangling his fingers on his own hair to pull it tight as he rolls his eyes back when Harry moves his finger out of him just to slam it back inside. ****  
** **

“Look at you,” Harry murmurs with his eyes now fixed on his finger going in and out of Louis. “Always take my fingers so well,” he says. “Do you want more? Do you need it?” ****  
** **

“Yeah.” Louis drags the word in a whine. “Yes, Harry, shit.” ****  
** **

Harry would never deny Louis anything, so he’s quick to add the second finger and scissor them wide. He watches when Louis looks down at where Harry’s fingering him open, moaning loudly at the sight. Harry curls the two fingers inside him to reach for his sweet spot, and knows he’s found it when Louis gasps loudly before stopping breathing altogether for a second.  ****  
** **

“Harry. Jesus,” Louis groans with his eyes shut. “More. Fuck, _more_ ,” ****  
** **

“Yeah, love,” Harry complies as he puts the third finger inside while leaning down and kissing Louis’ lips. “You know I’d give you anything.” ****  
** **

“Harry,” Louis pleads in a cry, and Harry doesn’t even know what he’s pleading for anymore. For him to move his fingers, probably? Or for him to just fuck him already? Or for him to forgive him for not being around anymore, even? Harry doesn’t know, but what he does know is that he’d do anything. He’ll move his fingers until Louis is a whining mess. He’ll fuck him until they’re both breathless and tired out. He’ll forgive him for not being around and kiss him senseless, even though he’s been miserable. He’ll do anything. ****  
** **

For now, he starts with his fingers as he moves them in and out in a slow pace only to watch Louis frown and glare at him in a silent demand to move faster. Harry doesn’t deny him that, just as he never denies him anything, and quickens his pace, now watching his fingers disappearing into Louis’ hole as it makes Louis whimper with every thrust. ****  
** **

“Harry, baby,” Louis says after a few minutes of Harry scissoring him open and slamming his prostate with his fingertips. “I’m ready. That’s enough, please. Harry, I’m ready.” ****  
** **

“Yeah, love?” Harry stops his movements and slowly takes his fingers out. Louis squeezes his hole into nothing, gasping at the sudden emptiness. “You’re ready?” ****  
** **

“Yeah, please,” ****  
** **

Harry nods as he reaches for the condom, but Louis stops him midway with a deep frown. “What are you doing?” he asks in confusion. ****  
** **

Harry looks down at him with heavy dark eyes, blinking. “Getting a condom,” he states. ****  
** **

“But why?” ****  
** **

“What do you mean, _why_ ?” Harry frowns, and he knows where Louis is coming from. He does. It’s just that — it’s been too long, so it’s only fair for them to use protection, right? It makes sense in Harry’s head. ****  
** **

“We never use it anymore. Why do you want to use it now?” Louis questions with trembling voice, making Harry swallows dry as he feels his heart beating so fast he’s scared Louis might hear it for a moment. “Have you —” he starts with his hand around Harry’s wrist, squeezing it tight. Harry can see his beautiful blue eyes tearing up, breaking Harry’s heart at the sight. He knows what Louis is about to ask. “Have you —” ****  
** **

“How can you possibly think that?” Harry grabs Louis’ hands and puts it above his head, pinning him down. “Do you not know me at all?” ****  
** **

“Harry, I —" ****  
** **

“Do you think I could ever do that to you? Do you think I could ever touch someone like this?” Harry questions him before licking Louis’ lips slowly and pressing his hips down, causing his cock to slide in between Louis’ asscheeks. Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s waist. “Do you think I could ever touch someone who isn’t _you_ ?” ****  
** **

“Baby,” Louis whimpers, trying to free his hands from Harry’s tight grip. “I don’t. It’s just — we don’t need condoms, right? We don’t. It’s only ever been you, and it’ll always be. Please.” ****  
** **

“Yeah?” Harry whispers against his lips. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s been so long, I thought we —” ****  
** **

“I know.” Louis interrupts him, biting his bottom lip. “I know, baby.” ****  
** **

Harry sighs deeply before licking into Louis’ mouth in a messy and brief kiss. He kneels one more time after grabbing the lube and squeezes some more into his hand, so he can slick his cock with it. He gives it a few strokes before cleaning his hand on the sheets and grabbing Louis by his thighs to wrap them around his hips as he leans himself down, placing his forearms on both sides of Louis’ head. Once he’s comfortable with their position, he reaches one hand down to his cock and aligns it with Louis’ hole, caressing the tip of his cock on Louis’ rim before sliding the head inside. He hears Louis’ gasps and fix his eyes on that beautiful face that keeps haunting his dreams. He bites Louis’ jaw as he slides in more of his cock, and he keeps going until he’s all the way in, his eyes never leaving Louis’ face, watching his every reaction.  ****  
** **

Louis is grabbing Harry’s biceps for dear life, squeezing it tight with his nails digging into Harry’s skin. Harry leans down to bite Louis’ jaw and kisses it hard, sucking love bites all over his neck.  ****  
** **

“Move, Harry. Baby, please,” Louis asks him breathlessly, squeezing his thighs around Harry’s hips. ****  
** **

“Fuck,” Harry grunts against Louis’ sweaty neck and does as he’s told. He slams his hips against Louis’ ass hard, thrusting his cock inside Louis’ hole as if seeking shelter. As if that’s right where it belongs. ****  
** **

_This is home_ , it’s what Harry thinks as he starts on a fast and frantic pace, reaching one hand down to squeeze Louis’ strong thigh and the other to tangle his fingers on Louis’ messy and sweaty hair, pulling it tight to guide Louis’ lips to his own, kissing him roughly.  ****  
** **

He remembers, right then, that it’s been so long since they’ve been this intimate. It’s been so long since he got to kiss Louis and have him like this, a whimpering mess under him. He bites Louis’ bottom lip hard, then, thinking of how he’s been keeping Harry in the dark for so long instead of sitting down and talking to him about everything that has been going on for fuck knows how long. Harry gives a hard thrust at the thought, then, causing Louis to moan so loud it actually echoes around the room. He does it again and again and _again_ , the only sound being their skin slamming against each other and Louis’ loud whimpers. ****  
** **

For a moment, Harry doesn’t bother being sweet like he usually is when it comes to him topping. He slides his hand down Louis thigh to his ass to spread it even more apart, taking his cock all the way out only to slam it right back inside with a hard thrust. He doesn’t want it fast; he wants it hard. Rough. His cock is so hard it actually hurts, and the more he thinks about how miserable he’s been for the past long weeks, the harder he slams his hips against Louis’ ass. Louis seems to enjoy it, given the way his eyes keep rolling back at the same time as he moans Harry’s name over and over again.  ****  
** **

Harry’s hot all over, and this is as much pleasurable for him as it is for Louis, he just doesn’t know if Louis’ heart is aching as much as his heart is. He just doesn’t know if Louis can actually feel how desperate he is. He doesn’t even know if he wants Louis to know, which is why he leans down to bite on Louis’ neck as if to hide the way his eyes are watering; he keeps with the hard thrusts, only this time he makes it faster, seeking for relief.  ****  
** **

“Baby, baby.” Louis is chanting underneath him, a moaning mess with bitten raw lips and sweaty golden skin. Harry can’t even look at him without feeling his cock throb in pain due to how hard it actually is. “Touch me, please. Please, _please_ .” ****  
** **

“No.” Harry denies him that, his lips moving against Louis’ neck. “You can come like this.” ****  
** **

“Harry,” Louis moans, guiding his hands to Harry’s back and scratching it roughly when Harry finds his prostate and makes his mission to slam it over and over again with the head of his cock.  ****  
** **

“Come on, Lou,” He grunts as he brings his hand to join the other on Louis’ hair, pulling it lightly. “Come on, babe. You’re so good.” He raises his head from Louis’ neck, swallowing his tears down so he can look into those blues without breaking down. “So good for me. You make me so hard every time. I could come a thousand times just from hearing your pretty voice say my name.” ****  
** **

“Fuck,” Louis sobs, their eyes locked onto one another. Blue and green, always looking for each other in a crowd. “Fuck, Harry. Baby, holy shit.” ****  
** **

“You take me so well. See? This is where my cock belongs, right inside you. You make me so hot, Lou.” He keeps speaking in between moans and grunts, his cock slamming right against Louis’ prostate over and over again. “Let it go, Lou, please. Fuck.” ****  
** **

“ _Harry_ .”  ****  
** **

“Yes, babe. That’s it.” Harry takes one of his hands from Louis’ hair to guide it down to one of Louis’ nipple, twisting the nub with his thumb and index finger. “Let it go, love. Come for me, please. Let’s do it together, huh? How about it? Come for me, and I’ll come for you.” ****  
** **

It doesn’t take much more talking for Louis to spill his load all over his and Harry’s chest, painting it all white and pretty as he bites his bottom lip hard right before letting out a slow and loud moan that makes Harry come right on the spot, his hips stuttering in messy thrusts until he keeps his cock inside, filling Louis up with spunk.  ****  
** **

It’s quiet for a moment after Harry lets his body rest on top of Louis, who is a fucked out mess while he drags his fingers up and down Harry’s back.  ****  
** **

“Jesus Christ,” Harry speaks up breathlessly after a moment, rolling his body to the side so he can let Louis breathe properly, lying next to Louis on his side, watching him with wide and careful eyes.  ****  
** **

Louis turns on his side as well, tucking his hands underneath the pillow as he drags his teeth over his bottom lip. “I know,” he says in a small chuckle. ****  
** **

“I miss you,” Harry whispers after a breath of silence.  ****  
** **

“I miss you, too,” Louis whispers right back to him. “Cuddle?” ****  
** **

Harry smiles weakly with a nod, turning around so Louis can spoon him. “Please, throw that jersey away,” he says when Louis wraps one arm around Harry’s waist and puts the other under his neck.  ****  
** **

“I like it, though,” Louis offers with a chuckle. Harry feels his chest tremble against his back, giving him a warm feeling of safety.  ****  
** **

“You don’t,” Harry states. Louis chuckles once again, a bit louder this time. “Throw it away.” ****  
** **

“Okay.” Louis places a kiss on the back of his neck. “Now, sleep.” ****  
** **

Harry feels his eyes burning with tears, right then, as reality kicks in. “Don’t be gone in the morning,” he tells Louis in a much stronger voice than he actually is.  ****  
** **

“Sleep, baby,” Louis repeats instead of giving Harry some sort of answer to what he’s asking of him. ****  
** **

Harry wishes he weren’t so tired, because then he would have asked more. He would have insisted. He would have stayed up all night just so he could watch Louis sleep and stop him from walking away when he woke up.  ****  
** **

Harry wishes he could have wrapped his arms so tight around Louis that it would have been impossible for him to get out of bed without waking Harry up, because then he wouldn’t have woken up all alone the next morning, with nothing but Louis’ smell and the bitter-sweet memories from the night before.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**NOTHING WILL CHANGE, OUR CAUSE HAS GONE INSANE**

_**Louis, three months ago** _

 

Tiredness is wearing Louis to the bone — he can feel every bit of his muscles giving in when he rolls his shoulders as if to relieve some of the annoying tension building up all over his back and neck. He’s so fucking tired, he can’t even listen to what Captain Weber is telling him as they make their way to the interrogation room, where the man who tried to kill him just the day before resides.

Louis isn’t looking forward to seeing his face again, but what else can he do except walk into that room to ask questions that will get no answers whatsoever? This day is bound to be terrible anyway, and it’s not even half past two in the afternoon.

He’s thinking about Harry’s soft kisses on his bruised neck from the night before, and how he wants to be in his arms when Captain Weber calls his name for what it doesn’t sound to be the first time, given his frown when they’re both standing in front of the interrogation room door.

“If you can’t focus longer than five seconds, I’ll have to interrogate the man alone,” Captain Weber states sternly, hard eyes boring into Louis’.

“Sorry, Captain,” he says with a tired sigh. “I couldn’t sleep much last night.”

It isn’t a lie — even though Harry tried soothing him many times throughout the night as he quietly hummed Louis’ favorite lullabies and softly kissed his head, still Louis couldn’t sleep. It was way past two in the morning when he was able to close his eyes for more than an hour, only for him to wake up gasping for air, scared he was being strangled all over again. Harry hummed the lullabies once again with his lips against Louis’ neck, but then it was almost time to wake up and get ready for work.

“I get you’re still shaken up by what happened yesterday,” the Captain tells him with understanding eyes. “But you’ll have to pretend you’re not for the sake of this interrogation. I will be with you the whole time, though, in case you need me to step up.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Captain Weber gives him a short nod as he gestures to the door. “Are you ready?” He asks. 

Louis swallows dry and hides his shaking hands in his jeans pockets, nodding in agreement. Captain Weber opens the door, then, revealing the mustached man sitting with his cuffed hands on the table, a bored expression wearing on his face.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for ages.” The man speaks up with the thickest French accent Louis has ever heard, and he instantly hates him even more. Of course, with a mustache like that, the man would be _French_. Actually, now that Louis has enough time and space between them both, he can see that the guy does look like Frenchman, and not only because of his mustache (not that all men with mustaches are French or something, it’s just that mustaches remind Louis of France, even though he has never been there before).

“Your lawyer will be here in no time.” Captain Weber lets the Frenchman know, earning a roll of eyes in return. “As we wait, we just want to ask a few simple questions.”

“Whatever,” the guy says with an attitude that only serves to piss Louis off more. 

Louis slams his hands down on the table, the loud sound of it echoing in the room and startling that stupid bored expression out of the Frenchman’s face. While Captain Weber sits in one of the two chairs across from the man, Louis decides to be up on his feet as he looks down at the French, frowning at him. He is honestly so tired, he may fall asleep if he sits down.

“Listen, Frenchie, I want you to stop giving us the fucking attitude. You’ll answer the questions if you want a deal good enough to get you out of bars as soon as possible.”

The Frenchman still looks as bored as a child doing homework, and Louis hasn’t even started with the questions yet. He gets even more tired just from looking at the man’s face and knowing this whole process is going to take a long fucking time. 

He was supposed to go home at five today, and now he’s stuck with this man who’s French and won’t open his fucking mouth to a single question Louis ask — he knows what’s about to happen. It’s what always happens. They never want to say anything at all, and Louis is growing tired of that. Especially now, when he needs answers the most. 

“First of all, I need a name to go with until they can tell us who you really are,” Louis tells him slowly, as if speaking to a child who doesn’t understand someone very well unless they speak with measured enunciated syllables. “Tell me your name.”

“Merc.” The man shrugs when he speaks, the French accent almost hurting Louis’ ears.

“Merc?” Louis repeats, raising his brows. “That’s not a name.”

“It’s a nickname, stupid. Have you ever heard of it? For a cop, you’re really dumb.”

Louis glares at him. He can feel Captain Weber eyes on him, probably silently asking him to keep his chill.

“Right, _Merc_.” Louis leans down so he’s closer to the man. “You’re clearly from France. What are you doing here in the U.S?”

“I’m on vacation,” the man answers with a snort. Louis wants to punch him so bad.

“Do you take a vacation to attack people?”

“From time to time, _oui_.” Merc nods seriously, and Louis knows the man is mocking him. 

He tries his best to not let it get to him, though.

“How did you know I was in that house?” 

“My psychic told me.”

Louis bites his bottom lip hard enough to keep him from saying something he would later regret, given that Captain Weber would complain about it for ages. 

“Tell me how you knew I was going to be in that house.” Louis demands in a louder and firmer voice, his blue eyes glaring down at the man. 

“I live in the neighborhood and saw you walking inside. I wanted to say hello,” the man gives him a different answer, still not enough and just as mocking as the first one. 

Louis sighs deeply as he runs one of his sweaty hands through his hair. He figures the man has been following him around for god knows how long. “You said something about giving me a warning. Who sent you to do that?” He asks instead.

The man smirks knowingly, then. Louis feels uneasy as he watches the man looking up at him with eyes that could only be described as _mean_. 

“What is the warning about?” Louis tries again, doing his best not to let it show how uncomfortable he actually feels at the moment. “You were trying to kill me,” he states. “Why?!” Then he slams his hands on the table again. 

He can hear Captain Weber’s deep sigh next to him, but he pays it no mind. 

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.” The mustached man scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Louis frowns, as confused as he is angry and frustrated. “So your hands squeezing my fucking neck were nothing.”

“I told you. I just wanted to say hi,” the man laughs wickedly. “And also let you know that you should watch your back.”

Louis takes a deep breath, fisting his hands on the table as he watches the man’s face. 

It’s just then that he lets his eyes wander over the man’s figure — he’s wearing the same clothes from the day before: dark jeans and black T-shirt. It’s in that very moment, when he allows himself to actually look at the man, that he sees all the tattoos covering his arms, and it’s funny, really. There are so many of them that it should have been the first thing Louis noticed about him after his stupid mustache. 

There is one tattoo that stands out among the others, though, and it makes the air stick in Louis’ throat, as if he’s suddenly forgotten how to properly breathe because _what the hell._

“I have a lot of tattoos myself, you know.” He starts with _friendly_ , and he’s so good at acting when it comes to pretending around perps that the man looks up at him with raised brows, surprised at the change in his voice. “I never get tired of getting more of them. Some of them have meaning, you know? But the others are just tattoos to me.” 

“And why is that any of my business?” Merc rolls his eyes. “Can you go away and come back only when my lawyer is here to hear your bullshit?”

“Tell me about your tattoos, _Merc_ ,” Louis asks, but it’s more of a demand than anything else, really. “Start with that one on your arm, right next to the lion.”

Louis points to the red tattoo that he has come to know very well ever since Captain Weber gave him one of the best cases to work on. It’s a symbol, Louis knows that, and the fact that this man has it on his skin forever gives him the bad kind of chills. It looks like an angry hurricane, ready to break everything that stands in its way. 

Merc looks down at the tattoo Louis is referring to just to look right back up at him with that knowing smirk once again. “I don’t need to tell you about it if you know well enough what it means,” he tells Louis with a shrug. 

Louis notices Captain Weber leans forward on the table, so he can take a better look at the man’s tattoo and frowns. 

“You work for Ivanov,” Louis states, because the symbol right there on the Frenchman’s skin, is what every single guy that works for Ivanov has tattooed somewhere in their bodies. “He sent you with the warning.” He concludes.

“Ah, good guy that boss of mine,” Merc says nonchalantly, that stupid smirk still on his face. 

“What does he want with me?” Louis frowns at Merc with quick breaths. He knows he’s about to explode, but he doesn’t care. 

“How would I know?” The man raises his brows in a silent challenge. “I just do what he tells me to, _Detective_.”

“Where is he?”

Then the stupid Frenchman has the audacity to laugh, as if Louis was _that_ stupid to even ask him that kind of question. 

“You think this is funny?” Louis asks quietly, voice low and laced with venom. He is exhausted and can’t have this excuse of a man fucking around now. “You know what I think is hilarious? The fact that your ass will rot behind bars while I’ll be out here _laughing_.” 

“And I think it’s funny that you think I’d ever tell you where Ivanov is.” The man shrugs. “I wouldn’t, not even if I knew.”

Louis blinks at him with a deep sigh, stepping away from the table to rest his back against the cold wide two-way mirror behind him. He takes a quick look at Captain Weber, who’s as quiet as he can be, before looking back at the Frenchman. 

“It seems like you don’t know anything, huh? Did you send me that text?” He demands. “Were you following my fiancé around like the disgusting piece of shit you are?” 

“Why, that’s not very nice of you, Detective.” Merc frowns dramatically. “I’ll make sure to let my lawyers know how rude you are being to me.”

“I don’t care!” Louis explodes, then, startling Captain Weber. Merc doesn’t even blink. “What the fuck does Ivanov want with me? _From_ me? How the fuck does he _know_ me at all?”

“I guess he just wants you to keep your eyes open.” It's all he gets as an answer, which causes him to groan loudly in a frustrated huff. 

“What the flying fuck does that even mean?” He snaps. “You’re useless. I’m not wasting another minute with this prick. Excuse me, Captain.”

He storms out of the room. His head is pounding and his body is aching with exhaustion.. Louis knows how unprofessional he is currently being — he isn’t one to give up trying to get answers out of a perp, whatever it takes. However, this is different. This is _personal_. 

This is so much more than a _big deal_. 

There is a mafia boss out there ordering his people to follow Harry and try to _kill_ Louis. Suddenly, Louis can’t seem to reach the surface of a case he was supposed to be working on, now way down at the bottom of it. How is he supposed to arrest these guys when they are now after him just as much as he is after them? This is _madness_. How is Louis supposed to deal with this? 

He meets Kristen when he is about to walk into the men’s restroom as she is just walking out from the women’s side. 

“You look terrible,” she says by way of greeting when she stops him from walking into the restroom without even saying a word to her. She’s holding his wrist. 

“I have a headache,” he tells her honestly but doesn’t even think of mentioning the real problem to his frustration. 

“Does your neck still hurt?” She asks him as she drops her gaze down to his bruised neck before looking back up to his face. 

She knows the surface to it all, just like Harry does. He knows he should tell her what is going on just as much as he should definitely tell Harry. He can’t, though. Not now. He has to learn how to deal with it first.

“Kind of,” he admits. 

“Were you interrogating the guy?” He nods to her question. “Did you get anything out of him?”

He thinks about telling her that the man actually works for Ivanov, but only for a moment. “No, he won’t say anything. I needed a break,” he says instead.

“Good luck with that,” she chuckles. “See you later, then. Let me know if you need anything.”

Louis waves at her before hurrying inside the restroom and locking himself into one of the stalls, breathing in and out heavily. 

 _Fuck_. 

How the hell is he supposed to figure this out? How is he supposed to protect Harry from all of this when he clearly can’t even protect himself? _Fuck_ , he could’ve died the day before and then _what_? 

He rests his back against the stall door and sighs deeply, trying to calm down before he has a heart attack or something. 

 _What the fuck am I supposed to do?_ It’s what he asks himself in a whisper, feeling his eyes burn with heavy tears.

 

***

 

Louis has a bunch of papers spread all over his desk by the time Kristen is telling him goodnight and walking to the elevator, four hours after the first time he interrogated Jardel Bourgeois a.k.a Merc. As he’s said earlier, it’s his nickname, in which Louis later found out it is because of Freddie Mercury. Since Jardel has a mustache, everyone started calling him Merc — Louis rolled his eyes at the information. 

Louis interrogated the man two more times after the first failed one, just so he could fail in getting answers on multiple occasions. Just like the first time, Merc, the stupid Frenchman, didn’t give him and Captain Weber anything, especially not in the third time when his lawyer had arrived. At least Louis knows the man will spend another night in prison until everything is settled. Now that they know he works for Ivanov ( _and_ tried to kill Louis _and_ has been following Harry around), there’s not much to be decided — he’ll get his sentence anyway.  

Even though that is good news, Louis can’t help but want to rip his hair right out of his head.

Right after they ended the third and last interrogation, Captain Weber told him to dig deeper into the Ivanov’s case files to see if they could find something that could link to the events from the day before, as in _why the hell would Ivanov send someone to kill Louis?_ Louis hasn’t even worked properly on this case until that very moment. He has been waiting for Captain Weber to give him the heads up and now he’s here. 

Louis has no idea what he is even supposed to find in these files. He sees Jardel Bourgeois’ name a couple of times and is surprised to see how the man seems to be kind of Ivanov’s right-hand man or something. He can’t help but feel an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach at how ridiculously _easy_ the whole situation suddenly seemed. If Merc is Ivanov’s right-hand man (which he probably is, given that his name is always mentioned right after Ivanov’s more than a few times — _Jardel Bourgeois linked to Ivanov in 2013_ ; _words that Jardel Bourgeois is going to meetings in Ivanov’s place_ ), then why would it have been so easy to catch him? That seems careless. Ivanov would never let that happen. 

It hits him, then, like a heavy brick right against his chest. _Of course_ . 

Ivanov is an intelligent man; he wouldn’t be careless. He would never send one of his men after cops without a plan. He would never send his _right arm_ without a plan. Louis realizes, right then, that Jardel Bourgeois was supposed to go there and attack him anyway — it wasn’t something spontaneous. He wasn’t caught by surprise and had to attack. That house isn’t even _his_ .  

Louis takes a deep breath and turns his laptop on, quickly logging into the system to find out whose name that house is registered under. He frowns deeply when he finds it’s owned by a woman named Samantha Day. He knows he’s heard of that name before. He opens some old folders saved in the laptop’s drive and types the name onto the search box — it doesn’t take long for him to find a file under that same name. _Of course_ , he thinks with a deep sigh. That’s Purple from Brooklyn. It doesn’t surprise Louis that she’s linked to Ivanov at all, it actually makes sense. He thinks it also makes things easier for Ivanov as well.  

_Fuck_ , this is terrible. 

He goes back to the papers spread all over his desk to take a better look, only to find that Samantha Day has actually been mentioned a couple of times as well. He curses himself quietly for not seeing it sooner. _Stupid_ . 

He can’t stop thinking about how Ivanov would never let this happen accidentally. It wasn’t a mistake. Jardel Bourgeois seemed unfazed by the fact that he was bound to spend years behind bars — he didn’t seem to care at all; he didn’t care about the fact that if he didn't give Louis any answers then it would be the reason for him to spend his life in prison. 

Louis concludes that all of this was supposed to happen because Ivanov planned it all. He wanted Bourgeois to get caught; he knew Louis and Captain Weber would be there because it was all a set up to scare him off. 

Louis concludes that for something like that to work out so well, for Ivanov to know where they were going, someone must have told him — he’s got the information right from the source of it. 

Louis realizes with a tight chest, right then, that someone from the Precinct sold them out.

He runs his hands through his hair tiredly after resting his elbows on the desk, sighing deeply. He wants to wake up from this terrible nightmare and see that it was only that — a nightmare. 

He just wants to go _home_ .  

Louis grabs his phone from the top drawer of his table and unlocks it to text Harry. _I’ll be home late tonight. Sorry, baby. I’ll see you in the morning if you’re already asleep by the time I arrive._ He sends it with a guilty and tired expression.  

_It’s okay, love. I’ll try to wait for you,_ Harry texts him right back, causing Louis to smile softly down at his phone. He’s about to type something back when he feels someone standing right next to his table, hovering over him. He looks up to find Jake staring down at him with a weird expression. 

“Not going home, Tommo?” He asks with a smirk. 

Louis raises his eyebrows at him, wondering why the hell he would just stand there without saying anything. _God_ , Louis thinks, _Jake can be so weird sometimes_ . 

“I gotta work on this Ivanov’s case, man. We’ve just found out the man who attacked me yesterday actually works for him,” Louis tells him easily because he knows how Jake is always eager to know about everyone else’s cases. As if he didn’t have enough of his own already.

The funny thing, though, is Jake's reaction to Louis' words — or the lack of reaction, really. For a short moment, Louis can see Jake's jaw twitch when he's done talking, as if he's holding something back, but then that's it.

“Really?” Jake blankly asks a moment later. Louis blinks up at him, confused as to why he looks so damn weird. He’s just awkwardly standing there, staring at Louis with tired eyes. “Shit’s just got real for you, then.”

 _You have no idea_ , he thinks as he watches Jake switch his weight from one leg to the other. “I guess so,” he says instead.  

“Well,” Jake gives him a tight smile. “I won’t keep you from work, Tommo. Have a great night. Send Harry my best.”

“Good night, Jake.” Louis nods and watches as Jake turns around, making his way to the elevator.

Louis watches him when he steps inside and turns around, so he can look at Louis with a blank face as he presses a button. Louis is only free of his glare when the doors close, and he’s out of sight.

He swallows dry as he averts his eyes back to the papers on the desk, blinking slowly as this uneasy feeling starts to swallow him up. He thinks about all of his realizations and tries his best to not conclude anything else that could make him regret even thinking about.

He can’t, though. He can’t stop thinking about how it all makes sense. It would make sense, _right_ ? 

He thinks about everyone who is always working around him — Kristen is always minding her business with her own cases, only asking him what’s going on from time to time, even though she’s his best friend — unless they’re working together, she never sticks her nose in his cases. Anne is always minding her business even more than Kristen is — he hardly ever talks to her, anyway. Sometimes he forgets she’s even there until Jake calls her with heart-eyes. Then there’s Jake, always minding everyone’s business and sticking his nose in everything that he shouldn’t be caring about at all. The thing is, Louis knows that’s how he is, but then again, that’s exactly why he’s thinking what he is right now. 

Jake always knows everything because he always hears everything he shouldn’t. Jake always works on amazing cases but always wants more. Jake is also currently working on a big case, although Louis is pretty sure he would like to be working on Ivanov's instead since it's _bigger_. 

Louis hates himself for even considering it, but what else is he supposed to think? Especially after the way Jake talked to him just a few minutes ago. He frustrates himself with this thought until he hears the elevator doors open with a ding while Captain Weber makes his way to it, an hour later.

“Have a good night, Detective Tomlinson.” Louis looks up from the papers to nod at him. “Harry.” He hears his boss say as a greeting and widens his eyes in surprise, turning around so quickly he almost falls off of his chair.

“Hello, Captain Weber. Have a great night.” His beautiful, beautiful and amazing fiancé says with a kind smile that always makes Louis’ heart grow into the size of a basketball. ****  
** **

“What are you doing here?” Louis asks, standing up from his chair and nodding to Captain Weber one more time right before the elevator doors close with him inside.  ****  
** **

There are a few people from the night shift walking around, while some of them are at their respective desks concentrating on their work. Louis pays them no mind, though, his eyes wandering over Harry’s face. ****  
** **

“I brought you dinner.” Harry raises the tupperware container wrapped in a dishcloth in his hands, a cheeky smile creeping on the corner of his lips. "Surprise." ****  
** **

“Are you trying to stuff me with healthy food again?” Louis grins as he squints his eyes at him, just so he can blink in realization and widen his eyes again. “Wait. It’s already dark outside, and you came here all by yourself. Did you take the tube?” ****  
** **

He feels like his heart might explode at any minute until Harry frowns at him before shaking his head. “No, I didn’t. I took an uber.” ****  
** **

Louis lets out a relieved sigh, nodding with a nervous chuckle. “Right, okay,” he says. ****  
** **

Harry huffs out a confused and short laugh, blinking at him. “What is it? Why would it matter if I’d taken the tube?” ****  
** **

“Because it’s dark, Harry, and we live in New York,” Louis tells him as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. He knows he’s being a little harsh, but Harry should know about this already. “You should know it’s dangerous to take a fucking tube to wander around New York at night.” ****  
** **

Harry frowns even deeper, clearly offended that Louis would talk to him like that. Louis sighs, then, running his hands through his hair for what it feels like to be the thousandth time. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “It’s been a long day. Thank you for bringing me dinner. I love you.” ****  
** **

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, genuinely worried as his eyes bore deep into Louis’ as if looking for the answer there. “Let’s go home.” ****  
** **

“I need to get back to work, baby. I’m sorry,” he sighs. “Why don’t you sit with me while I eat, though? Tell me about your day.” ****  
** **

“I won’t keep you on behind all of this?” Harry frees one of his hands from the tupperware to point at Louis’ messy desk.  ****  
** **

“No. Of course not. Come on, let’s sit in the kitchen.” ****  
** **

Louis guides him through the Precinct until they’re in the resting area, which looks more like a kitchen than anything. Surprisingly, there isn’t anyone eating or taking a nap at the moment — people usually hang out there when it’s a few minutes after midnight to close their eyes for a moment after having a snack.  ****  
** **

Louis closes the door behind him while Harry places the tupperware on the table located in the middle of the room. Harry sits down on the old couch by the window and rests his head back against it, sighing deeply as Louis sits in a chair by the table to eat.  ****  
** **

“How was your day?” Louis asks when he opens the tupperware to find two warm mini burritos that smell a lot like chicken and bacon all together. He looks up from the tupperware to give Harry a smile. “My favorite kind of burrito, then?” ****  
** **

Harry opens his eyes to look at him with a small smile. He shrugs. “I thought I could make it up for being kind of a dick yesterday,” he says. “Also, I wanted to see that smile of yours after what happened. Does your neck still hurt?” ****  
** **

Louis stands up from the chair to go to the sink and wash his hands quickly. “Not so much,” he tells Harry when he sits back in the chair. “I’m okay, though.” It’s a lie, but what else is he supposed to say? That one of the biggest mafia-man-boss is after him for whatever reason?  ****  
** **

“Are you, really?” Harry insists, still in his comfortable position on the couch. “You know you can tell me anything.” ****  
** **

“I’m okay, I promise,” he lies once again. “It’s just been a really long day, and I still have to keep working on this case. Now, enough about me.” He smiles as he grabs one of the burritos and takes a big bite of it. “How was your day?” ****  
** **

Harry smiles at him when he moans around his first bite, pleased. “It was good. They’ve brought in new interns. Sarah and I are going to mentor two of them.” ****  
** **

“Oh?” Louis raises his brows, swallowing. “Are you excited? I know how much you like to boss people around.” He wiggles his brows. Harry rolls his eyes fondly. ****  
** **

“I am, actually. I like to _teach_ people, you know.” ****  
** **

Louis shrugs with a chuckle. “This is amazing, by the way,” he adds. “You know me too well.” ****  
** **

Harry grins, satisfied with the compliment. “You know,” he starts casually. Louis hums as if to let Harry know he’s still listening as he keeps enjoying the burrito. “You’ve made me kind of paranoid with all this _I Wanna Take You to Work_ thing of yours.” ****  
** **

Louis frowns at him when he looks up, confused. “What do you mean?” He questions.  ****  
** **

“I know how much you’ve always worried about me walking around by myself, but this time you went kinda crazy. I know it wasn’t only because you wanted to give me company,” Harry tells him, raising his upper body from the couch, so he can rest his elbows on his knees. “And, like, you’ve made me paranoid with this. So much that I thought someone was following me today when I was walking home from work.” Harry chuckles, but Louis doesn’t find that funny. Not at all. ****  
** **

“What?” He widens his eyes, his voice a whisper. “What the fuck, Harry? Why didn’t you call me?” ****  
** **

Harry frowns, then, quite confused by Louis’ reaction. Louis notices he wasn’t expecting him to react this way, but _what_ was he expecting, really? Louis knows Harry has no idea of what is actually happening, but he knows well enough that Louis is _indeed_ always worried about Harry going to and coming back from work alone.  ****  
** **

“Lou, it didn’t happen,” Harry tells him with a nervous chuckle. “I said I only _thought_ someone was following me. You know, when you have that feeling, but then you realize it’s only your own shadow?” ****  
** **

“How —” The burrito is long forgotten when Louis gets up from the chair to stand in front of Harry, who’s now looking up at him with a worried frown. “How do you even know that?! Fuck, Harry. When that — _fuck_ . When that kind of shit happens, just let me fucking know, alright?” ****  
** **

Harry is looking at him like he’s lost his mind, and maybe he has, really. He knows he’s probably overreacting, but after the events that happened in less than the entirety of forty-eight hours. He can’t help but feel like the world is swallowing him whole until he can’t even breathe anymore.  ****  
** **

“Jesus, fine,” Harry huffs as he stands up, looking down at Louis since he’s a bit taller than him. Louis hates that fact from time to time. “Next time I _think_ someone is following me, I’ll call you. It’s not as if that would change anything, but okay.” He rolls his eyes, and then Louis is fuming. ****  
** **

Doesn’t Harry _get it_ ? Why can’t he just understand that life isn’t all rainbows and there are people out there that could kill them in a spare of two minutes? People are so evil, they wouldn’t even think twice about taking a human life even someone as pure as Harry. Harry _knows_ that, but why can’t he understand? Louis wants to shake him until he realizes all of what is going on without Louis having to say a word.  ****  
** **

“Do you think I’m joking, Harry?” Louis scowls at him, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry blinks at him. “Is this _funny_ to you?”  ****  
** **

“I think it’s funny that you’re making such a big deal out of this.” Harry places his hands on Louis’ shoulders. “No one was following me, Lou. What’s going on? It seems like your mind has been going two hundred miles a minute lately.” ****  
** **

“Just —” Louis moves his shoulders out of Harry’s grip, causing the younger one to frown at him even deeper. “Don’t joke about this stuff, alright?” He says. “It’s not fucking funny.” ****  
** **

Harry presses his lips in a tight line before crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “You’ve never wanted to walk me to work before. I know you worry, but it’s never been like this. I know something’s up because you seem to be always on edge. What’s going on?” Harry questions him, running out of patience.  ****  
** **

“Look, I need to go back to work, okay? I’ll call you an uber.”  ****  
** **

Harry rolls his eyes, throwing his body back onto the couch all the while looking at Louis with challenging eyes.  ****  
** **

“Are you serious right now?” Louis blinks down at him.  ****  
** **

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what the fuck is going on,” Harry states, raising his right leg to rest his ankle on his left knee.  ****  
** **

“I have a ton of shit to do, Harry. Quit being a dick, please.” Louis huffs with a roll of his eyes. ****  
** **

“ _I’m_ being a dick? I’m trying to help!” Harry frowns. “I know you’re upset, and I wanna _help_ you.”  ****  
** **

“It’s just work, Harry. I’m tired, and I have a lot to do. There are so many cases; I’ve been going mad.”  ****  
** **

“Fine,” Harry huffs annoyed, standing up from the couch all of a sudden. Louis blinks at him, surprised. “If you won’t tell me the truth, then I’m gonna go home. It’s what you want me to do, anyway. Enjoy your burrito.” ****  
** **

Louis stands there for a moment as he watches Harry make his way to the door before snapping out of it and going after him, holding him back by his wrist to stop him from walking any further. ****  
** **

“Harry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. It seems to be all he has been doing lately to Harry, after all. Harry turns around slowly with a blank expression. “I promise it’s just too much work. Some of the cases have been getting to my head, and I haven’t been fair to you.” ****  
** **

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” Harry rolls his eyes. Louis takes a step further into Harry’s space, crowding him as he wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. ****  
** **

“I love you more than anything in this fucked up world,” Louis tells him softly, his eyes never leaving Harry’s as he squeezes his love handles. Harry seems taken aback by Louis’ words when he raises his brows in surprise as his eyes fill with fondness that is always there for Louis, no matter what. “You told me to tell you something you didn’t already know.” He reasons with a shrug. ****  
** **

“Ugh,” Harry groans dramatically in between a short chuckle. “You’re such a sap.” ****  
** **

“I know,” Louis grins. “Please don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold.” ****  
** **

“It doesn’t make me any less angry at you, though. You’re also a dick.” ****  
** **

“I know,” he repeats. “I’m sorry, really. I hate seeing you this upset with me. I hate seeing you upset at all.” ****  
** **

“You don’t have to worry about me all the time, you know,” Harry says as he cups Louis’ jaws with his warm big hands. “I know how to take care of myself.” ****  
** **

“I wanna take care of you, though,” Louis confesses, leaning into Harry’s touch. “All the time.” ****  
** **

“Sap,” Harry smiles. ****  
** **

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeats with a sigh. “Let me make it up to you?” ****  
** **

“Well, you can make it up to me by taking me to that new Japanese place close to our apartment, how about we — ” ****  
** **

“Let me make it up to you _now_ ,” Louis interrupts him in a whisper. He presses his lips against Harry’s, softly and speaks against them. “Please?” ****  
** **

“Oh,” Harry breathes. “I see what you mean.” He whispers back when Louis’ hands wander down to grab his ass. “Yes, _please_ .” ****  
** **

“Really?” Louis smiles, quite surprised. Harry has never been much of _getting dirty_ in public places. “Even with all my co-workers right outside?” ****  
** **

“Eh,” Harry shrugs as he wraps his arms around Louis’ shoulders. “They’re all from the night shift, anyway, we rarely see them.” ****  
** **

“God, you’re nasty,” Louis pulls him tighter by his ass, smiling wide. “Go sit on the couch.” ****  
** **

Harry smirks before pulling away to walk to the couch, calmly sitting back on it while Louis walks to the door and locks it. He closes the blinds before turning around to walk his way towards Harry, who’s watching his every move. ****  
** **

They do nothing but stare at each other, Harry sitting comfortably on the couch while looking up at Louis, who’s standing between Harry’s spread legs, until Harry seems to have had enough and leans in to place his hands on the back of Louis’ thighs and pull him closer. ****  
** **

“You wanna make it up to me, you said?” Harry runs his hands down to Louis’ calves and back up to his ass.  ****  
** **

“Mmm,” Louis nods, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Do you want me to?” He asks in a hushed voice. Harry pulls Louis’ shirt up to bite softly at his bottom belly as he hums in affirmation. “Right here, where someone could hear you as I make you feel good, huh?” ****  
** **

Harry’s hooded eyes look up at him, pleading. Louis would never deny those eyes anything. “What do you want me to do, baby?” He asks when he tangles his fingers on Harry’s hair, pulling it softly.  ****  
** **

“I wanna suck you off,” Harry says against Louis’ belly, running his nose along the soft hairline that trails down to his cock.  ****  
** **

Louis squints his eyes at him, smiling amusedly. “I thought _I_ was the one who was going to make it up to _you_ ?” he states. ****  
** **

Harry shrugs, “I want to,” he insists. “This is how you’re gonna make it up to me — by letting me suck your cock. Wanna taste you.”  ****  
** **

Louis bites his lips with a grin, pulling Harry’s hair tighter. “You’re a menace,” he says as he feels his cock thicken by the second. “I’ll do whatever you want. I let _you_ do whatever you want to _me_ .” ****  
** **

“Yeah?” Harry smiles up at him while unbuttoning Louis’ jeans. “Whatever I want?” ****  
** **

Louis’ jeans and briefs are by his ankles by the time he realizes he is yet to say anything to what Harry’s just said. He can’t think straight, though, with the way Harry is looking at his hard cock with lustful and hungry eyes.  ****  
** **

“Huh, love?” Harry calls for him, placing his hands back on Louis’ now naked ass and squeezing it tight. “Gonna let me do whatever I want to you?” ****  
** **

“You know I am,” Louis tells him after a beat, his hands still gripping onto Harry’s hair for dear life. “I always do.” ****  
** **

Harry wraps his hand around the base of Louis’ cock and kisses the tip gently, causing Louis to moan louder than he should. Harry smirks up at him with his mouth hovering on his cock — Louis can feel his warm breath at the now wet spot Harry left with the kiss. He’s _aching_ .  ****  
** **

“Quiet, Lou,” Harry warns him. “You don’t want your cop mates to hear you.” ****  
** **

“Don’t be a tease.” Louis whines when Harry drags his hand up and down to the head of his cock slowly and softly, the dryness making it hurt a bit — it feels good enough to make Louis roll his eyes in pleasure.  ****  
** **

Harry shrugs before he wraps his unholy mouth around the head of Louis’ cock, sending Louis straight to heaven, making him feel like he’s right in Paradise — that’s what it must feel like, right?  ****  
** **

When Harry sucks on it, though, and Louis’ eyes roll back in pleasure, Louis knows that there’s no one else in the world for him. Not that he didn’t know about that already — he has known this since the first time they’ve ever kissed. However, it’s times like these, when Harry is looking up at Louis with his sinful mouth around his cock, that he knows there is no one else like Harry for him in the world. There’s no one else for him, when Harry is looking at him like he’s the only thing that matters; there is no one else in the world for him, when Harry knows exactly what he needs and when he needs it.  ****  
** **

He has the urge to cry, right then, as he thinks that he could never live in a world where Harry doesn’t exist. He feels suffocated as he thinks about what has been happening — how can someone wish for bad things to happen to someone like Harry? How can Louis _live_ with that? How can he have Harry looking up at him like that, like Louis is some kind of hero or something, when he can’t come up with anything that could keep him safe? When he can’t even tell Harry the truth?  ****  
** **

When Harry sinks down until he swallows half of Louis’ cock, Louis grabs his hair harder, biting his bottom lip hard enough to hurt. “Harry,” he moans quietly, his watery eyes transfixed on the way Harry look with his plump pink lips squeezing around Louis’ cock, giving him shelter.  ****  
** **

Harry doesn’t take long to actually go for it, swallowing him down until the tip of Louis’ cock hits the back of his throat and his nose is touching the soft hair right above his shaft. Then Louis loses it. It’s like a trigger for him, the way Harry closes his eyes and moans around his cock, sending all the good kinds of vibration through his member and up and down his entire body — Louis tightens his grip on Harry’s hair and keeps him three for two seconds, with his mouth full of what he wants and needs. 

Louis is pretty sure that because he’s so damn worried and feeling so much at the same time, he’s desperate. He’s sure this is the reason why he gets the way he does next, pulling Harry away from his cock with a pull of his hair and making him look up at him, gasping.  ****  
** **

“Let me fuck your mouth,” he asks, but it sounds more like a demand. He knows he sounds like such a prick — but how can he not be this fucking hard when Harry is right there, on his knees and as submissive as he can be, whining pleasingly at Louis’ request?  ****  
** **

“Yeah. Jesus, _yes_ .” Harry nods eagerly as he runs one his hands over his clothed hard-on before guiding his hands to his back submissively. He fixes his position, so he can get more comfortable and gives a last longing look to Louis before closing his eyes and opening his mouth as an invitation, sighing deeply.  ****  
** **

Louis groans at the sight, taking a hold of his cock and guiding it towards Harry’s mouth, tracing lines around his pretty reddened lips. Harry hums pleasingly, licking his lips just so his tongue could reach Louis’ tip.  ****  
** **

“Lick it,” Louis tells him, pulling his hand away. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice as he flats out his tongue and licks along the base of Louis’ cock, taking his time on the thick vein along the side. Louis rolls his eyes with a quiet groan, trying his best not to be loud. “Stop,” he grunts by the time Harry is licking his like a fucking kitten, humming in pleasure as if he’s licking the tastiest lollipop he has ever had the pleasure of consuming.  ****  
** **

Harry looks up at Louis with a small smile, waiting for him to tell him what he should do next, and that’s what it probably breaks him, really. A submissive Harry always breaks a Louis who’s so damn in love.  ****  
** **

“You want it?” Louis asks, but he already knows the answer when Harry hums in response, wetting his lips. “Take it, then.” ****  
** **

Harry swallows him down once again without a second thought, his eyes still up to Louis’ and his hands still stuck between his lower back and the couch. When he’s got his nose pressed against Louis’ lower abdomen, he doesn’t move. Louis knows what he’s waiting for, though, so he gives it to him.  ****  
** **

Louis slides his cock out from Harry’s mouth slowly, groaning as Harry makes sure his tongue is right there licking him wet, and then slides right back in until Harry’s eyes are watering with how full his mouth is. Louis notices his boy gagging when he slides in for the second time, hitting his throat a little bit harder this time around. He knows Harry will tell him to stop in case it’s too much, so he keeps going and going and _going_ . In and out, in and out. His hands are gripping Harry’s hair like a lifeline, guiding him up and down on his cock.  ****  
** **

The sight of Harry right there, giving _it_ to him is enough to get him out of his mind as he thinks that this man right there, giving him the highest level of pleasure, is the love of his entire life and there isn’t any other dimension where he would be _someone_ without him. He thinks that he can’t let anything ever happen to that man, his _boy_ , and then he’s desperate enough to seek something other than the fact that he has no idea what he’s supposed to do to keep Harry away from all of the shit going on.  ****  
** **

He knows he’s being rough with his thrusts into Harry’s mouth, slamming against his throat over and over again, but he doesn’t bother stopping since Harry’s moans are getting louder and louder with each thrust, his eyes rolling back from time to time.  ****  
** **

_Fuck_ , Louis loves him so much.  ****  
** **

He hates himself for keeping the truth from him, but what other choice does he have? How can he tell Harry that they’re in danger because of his damn job?  ****  
** **

Louis doesn’t want to think about that now — he’s always been the one to distract himself from a problem and pretend it doesn’t exist for a while. He’s good at that, and he knows he shouldn’t. Especially not with this, not with Harry involved. But how can he think of anything rather than the way Harry’s mouth is wrapped tightly around Louis’ cock? He’s getting off on this as much as Louis is, and Louis is _high_ . He’s high up in the clouds, floating away to Pleasure Land, and it’s amazing. He feels so fucking _guilty_ .  ****  
** **

Harry can’t keep his hands still anymore and brings them to Louis’ ass, gripping its cheeks tightly as if to pull him deeper into his mouth; as if asking him to not give him a break. Louis isn’t one to deny him anything, really.  ****  
** **

Louis guides one of his hands to Harry’s left cheek, feeling his cock going in and out of Harry’s mouth with his thumb, pressing it lightly while moaning at the sight and feeling.  ****  
** **

It doesn’t take him any more than a few minutes for him to start getting clumsy with his thrusts as he’s on the edge of reaching the orgasm that has been building ever since Harry agreed to be dirty right there at Louis’ workplace.  ****  
** **

“Baby,” Louis warns. “I’m gonna cum.” He guides his hand back to Harry’s hair and grips it tightly, but Harry only grunts, sucking him harder and gripping his ass as if his life depends on it.  ****  
** **

Louis won’t deny him that either. He would never. Harry never pulls away when Louis is about to come, anyway, but Louis is always caring enough to warn him.  ****  
** **

“Cum in my mouth,” Harry says quickly at one of the times Louis pulls his cock out, voice wrecked. Louis waits for a second before sliding back inside, blinking down at Harry. “I need to taste you.” ****  
** **

Louis’ cock throbs at Harry’s words, and then he’s sliding back into Harry’s mouth desperately, going back to his previous pace until he’s cumming right on the spot with a loud long moan — he knows anyone could hear him on the other side of the door, but he doesn’t give a single fuck. He can’t think of anything but Harry’s mouth on his cock, as he shoots his load down his throat, locking his eyes onto Harry’s watery ones.  ****  
** **

“Jesus fuck,” Louis gasps when he finally pulls away, and Harry throws his body back to rest on the couch, his head hanging back as he licks his lips clean. Louis blinks longingly at him with a crazy beating heart. “You’re sinful.” ****  
** **

Harry smirks at him tiredly. “You love it,” he shrugs.  ****  
** **

Louis looks down at Harry’s crotch just to find he is no longer tenting his pants. “What?” he looks back up at him with raised brows, surprised. ****  
** **

“I always get off on how crazy you get with my mouth on your cock, Lou, you know that.” ****  
** **

“You came?” Louis asks even though he already knows the answer to that. He looks back down at where once there was Harry’s hard-on, finding a wet spot staining his black jeans. ****  
** **

“Of course, I did,” Harry says as he closes his eyes for a brief moment, only to open them a second later to give Louis’ an amused look. “Came in my pants like a thirteen-year-old boy. That’s how you make me feel.” ****  
** **

“Jesus Christ,” Louis chuckles before pulling his jeans and pants up, buttoning himself up. He smiles at Harry when he sits down next to him, running one of his hands through the mess of his boy’s hair. “Thanks for the burrito.” ****  
** **

Harry laughs loudly and freely, squeezing his eyes shut as he does so. “You’re _very_ welcome,” he says after turning his head to look at Louis. “I’m gonna go home now.” ****  
** **

“You probably should.” Louis nods. ****  
** **

“When do you think you’ll be able to go?” Harry asks as he reaches for his phone in his back pocket, unlocking it to open the uber app.  ****  
** **

“I don’t know,” Louis tells him honestly, feeling his throat tighten out of sudden. “Soon, I hope.” ****  
** **

“I’m sorry if I’m asleep by the time you get there.” Harry looks up from his phone at him, leaning in to place a soft and quick kiss to his lips. “If I am, I’ll see you in the morning.” ****  
** **

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, watching as Harry stands up from the couch. “Text me as soon as you arrive, please.” ****  
** **

Harry stares at him blankly for a while before smiling softly. “I will,” he nods. “See you later, Lou.” ****  
** **

Louis gets up from the couch as well, standing in front of Harry to peck his lips one last time before walking to the door and unlocking it, feeling his chest tighten by every step Harry takes towards the elevator, but smiling amusedly when the younger man keeps his hands over the wet spot on his jeans, probably giving everything away by the gesture. He gives Louis one last warm smile before the doors close and he’s out of sight. ****  
** **

He takes a deep breath and goes back to his desk, not bothering to care about his night shift colleagues side-eyeing him. He sits in his chair and closes his eyes for a moment before going back to finding whatever it is he needs to find in those files.  ****  
** **

It’s about twenty minutes later when his phone beeps on the desk, the screen lightening up with a text. He smiles when he sees Harry’s name.  ****  
** **

_Got home safe with a sore throat_ , it’s what it says in the text with an eggplant emoji. ****  
** **

_I’ll be home as soon as I can, dork,_ Louis types back with a fond smile.  ****  
** **

When Harry doesn’t reply right away, he places the phone back on the desk and goes back to reading the files all over again. It’s five minutes later when his phone buzzes again, and Louis picks it up with a grin, knowing there’ll be another kind of weird emoji from Harry. ****  
** **

What he reads makes his heart stop for a long second, though, the phone suddenly as heavy in his hands as the world is on his shoulders. ****  
** **

_Fiancé got home safe,_ the text from an unknown number says with a picture attached to it. It’s Harry getting out of the car that was probably his uber ride, just a few minutes ago.  ****  
** **

Louis grabs his phone tight in his hands before throwing it on the floor with a frustrated loud groan, prompting some of his night shit colleagues to give him worried looks. ****  
** **

Louis grabs his backpack and his phone from the floor — which has now a broken screen — and storms out to the elevator.  **  
**

He needs to get _home_. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my god. I'm so so so so so sorry, you guys. I can't believe it's been this long since I've last updated! I honestly hate myself for it because I love writing this fanfic so much and I hate that I've been stuck on this chapter for so long...but it's finally here. I wish I had more than just one chapter to post, but unfortunately I don't :( but I'm working on it and I promise you will all love what's coming...well, love and hate, since there's a lot of more drama coming!! Again, I'm so sorry it took me so freaking long. I promise I will try my best to post the next few chapters as soon as possible. Thank you so much for all of you, please don't give up on me! If not me, don't give up on this story!!! Lots of love, and I hope you enjoy the chapter xx

**I'M NOT SURE IF I CAN DO IT ON MY OWN**

 

“What the living fuck were you thinking, Harry?”

Harry is standing by the kitchen counter with his hands over his face while he hears the same question for what it feels like to be the thousandth time that morning, a week after him being caught in that stupid house in Yorkville. A week after meeting Louis in their apartment for the second time, only to end up alone in the morning after feeling complete again when he hadn't felt like that for so long. He doesn't know how he's been coping, but having James there right now, questioning about things he doesn't really know how to answer isn't really helpful.

He should’ve known that hiring a long-term friend as his lawyer would be the same as if he hired someone to tell him off. He should’ve known he would react probably the same way as Louis did to him going to that house.

Standing across from him is James Corden, a friend of his and Louis’ from college times, and now his lawyer. He’s looking at Harry with a deep and worried frown after hearing parts of what happened to him — Harry couldn’t tell him the whole story, not really. Louis has asked him not to. So he’s told James what he could: he found Liam because of the note he had found (that part didn’t seem like it could cause any more trouble) and called him because he felt like no one at the station was doing enough to actually find Louis, which had led him to the house where he was busted.

“I was thinking about how much I wanna find Louis, James,” Harry states, putting his hands down to look at his friend. “That’s what I’ve just told you. Are you even listening to me?”

James rolls his eyes with a huff, only to glare at Harry once again. “I’m saying you were careless. What if something worse had happened?”

“It didn’t. I’m fine. Now I have to answer some shit they have to ask me and you’re gonna help me, that’s why you’re here. Not to question me about my reasons.”

“Right,” James sighs. “You said you met with Liam?”

“Yes, James, he was the one who set me up,” Harry says with a frown. “Are you paying attention?”

“It’s just weird. Liam wouldn’t do that,” James tells him honestly. Harry rolls his eyes as he holds back the words Louis said the same fucking thing. “I know him, Harry. I’ve actually known him a bit longer than I’ve known you and Louis, you know? Louis told me he needed a private investigator and I recommended Liam.”

“What?” Harry blinks surprised.

“Yeah. It’s been a few months since he’s asked, I think. But, yeah, I was the one to tell him about Liam, so I can assure you he wouldn’t set you up like that.”

Harry sighs deeply as he runs his hands over his face. “This is so fucked up,” he says.

“It’ll be fine. I was thinking you could tell them the truth, you know?”

“What?” Harry snorts out a humorless chuckle. “Are you crazy? They’re gonna give me shit about it, okay? No way. They’ll ask even more questions.”

“Fine,” James shakes his head in disagreement but sighs on defeat anyway. “So, let’s not mention Liam’s name. I actually figured you wouldn’t want to tell them the truth so, I have a back-up plan.” Harry raises his eyebrows at him. “You can tell them you were meeting someone in the neighborhood and heard something coming from this house as you passed by.”

“Really?” Harry asks, hesitation creeping through him.

“Yes, really. You can come up with a name, even. Tell them you were meeting Regina Phalange, for all I care, as long as you tell them you were meeting someone in the neighborhood, a friend. A cousin, a co-worker, whatever.”

Harry chuckles quietly at the Friends’ reference and nods. “Okay,” he says. “This will work?”

“Let’s hope so,” James shrugs.

“What kind of lawyer are you, James?” Harry huffs annoyed.

“A good one, mind you. I can promise it will work because they might not believe it, but if they don’t, we can have a plan b.”

“And that’d be…”

“You tell them someone approached you in a bar a few days ago saying Louis would be in that house, on that exact day and hour,” James explains. “You’ll tell them it happened so fast you didn’t even think to go after them.”

“Why can’t I just go with that one at first? It sounds more believable,” Harry complains.

“Because they’ll believe it more,” James smiles amusedly. “Once they hear that lame first story, they’ll know you were hesitant to tell them the truth and, once you tell them this one, they’ll believe it.”

“Oh,” Harry blinks at his friend. “So _that_ was your plan.”

“They already know it wasn’t you, I’m sure,” James says, ignoring Harry’s last words. “But they gotta interrogate you because you were there anyway.”

“I know,” Harry sighs.

“Tell me _why_ were you there, again?” James frowns at him confusedly, causing Harry to roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Because of Liam,” Harry repeats what he’s told James when he’s been asked the same question thirty minutes ago. “I found his number, we met and his files led me to that house. I wanna find Louis and his detective friends ain’t doing anything to help me find him, so I started working on my own.”

“You’ve always been the stupid one between you and Louis,” James shakes his head in disbelief. Harry squints his eyes at him. “Does Kristen know about this?”

“Yes.”

"Good. That's good."

"Why does it even matter if she knows about this?"

“I thought she was Louis’ best friend?” James raises his brows. “I’m sure she wants to find him as much as you do.”

“Nobody wants to find him as much as I do,” Harry runs his hands over his face with a sad sigh, his heart squeezing at the thought of his last night with Louis.

“Anyway, Liam didn’t set you up, okay?” James states out of a sudden. “I know him, and I also know for sure Louis and him were becoming quite good friends.”

“He’s never told me anything about Liam.”

“Maybe because he was working on this huge case that was and is none of your business?”

Harry wants to tell him that’s not true — he wants to say it is all of his business since he’s been receiving texts from someone who was clearly the one to put Louis into this mess in the first place.

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry shrugs.

“So, yeah, Liam didn’t do it. I promise.”

“How do you even know him, James?” Harry asks, suddenly remembering that James hasn’t told him the full story yet.

“He’s dated one of my cousins once for a few months, we’ve been good friends since then.”

Harry blinks at him. “Right,” he says with a frown. “Okay.”

“I’ll call him to let him know what’s happened and then he’ll call you. You both can get to the bottom of this, I’m sure.”

“I don’t think I —”

“I’ll be one call away if you need me, you know that.”

Harry sighs deeply. “I know,” he nods.

“For now, let’s worry about this damn interrogation. Do you remember what you have to say?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Now that’s settled, we still got half an hour left before we have to go. Let’s watch some shit on Netflix.”

Harry smiles weakly at him but still amused. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that.”

“I know,” James chuckles. “Put The Office on so we can have a laugh.”

“Deal,” Harry smiles and walks to the living room to turn on the TV. James follows right after him and sits comfortably on the couch.

“Everything will be fine, Harry,” he says when Harry sits down next to him. Harry looks at him with tired eyes.

“Thank you, James.”

 

***

 

“Fuck, James, how come it seems like I’ve forgotten everything you told me to say?” Harry is panicking and it’s only been ten minutes since they’ve arrived at the Precinct.

Kristen was the one to greet them with her kind smile right before telling them to wait for a while until the two detectives who are supposed to interrogate him are ready — she’s mentioned their names but Harry isn’t sure if he knows them. 

“Please, don’t have a panic attack,” James looks at him worriedly as they sit side by side in two of the chairs in the hall, in front of the interrogation room. “You do remember, you’re just too nervous to remember now. When it’s time to speak, though, you’ll be fine.”

“What if they know right away that I’m lying?” Harry whispers.

James sighs deeply, turning his body on the chair so he’s facing Harry with a stern look. “Stop that,” he says, “You’ll be fine. They won’t know because you’ll do great. You’re a great liar.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Yeah, right,” he scoffs.

“I mean it, everything will be —”

James is interrupted by the interrogation room door being opened, one of the two detectives looking at Harry with raised brows, an expression that tells he’s an asshole right then. Harry wants to roll his eyes at him at the same time he wants to run away.

“Mr. Styles, are you ready?” The detective asks, opening the door wide.

James stands up first, noticing Harry is hesitating and reaching a hand to squeeze his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Harry says after shaking his head lightly, as if to shake all the worries away.

They walk into the room — James with his confidence and Harry with a heavy weight on his shoulders, making it hard for him to breathe. _This is a mess._

Harry thinks it’s crazy that it hasn’t been such a long time since he’s been in this room, and even crazier that he’s been in this room at all. The craziest is that he’s about to be the one being asked questions and to lie in all of his answers. Well, most of them anyway.

_Crazy._

“I’m officer Daniels and this is officer Sanders. We’ll be interrogating you today, Mr. Styles,” The asshole-look-like detective says, his ugly dark mustache moving along with his mouth and thick eyebrows frowning over his hazel eyes. “Is this your lawyer?” He nods towards James.

“Nice to meet you,” James raises his hand to shake Daniels’ after Harry nods in response to the question.

“So, Mr. Styles,” officer Daniels starts after a beat of silence, sitting down next to the other one, across from Harry and James. Harry takes a deep shaky breath. “What were you doing in the house?”

Harry is surprised at the question — is Officer Daniels supposed to ask him that straight away, without even trying to sound _a little bit nice_?

“I wasn’t doing anything,” He tells the truth, because what else is he supposed to say? He didn’t even have the time to actually do anything for starters.

However, it probably wasn’t the right thing to say even if it was the truth, giving the look on Officer Daniel’s face. He looks so tired of this conversation already, and it hasn’t even started.

“Let me put this in a different way, then,” Daniels sighs, placing his hands on the table. “What were you gonna do there? Why did you go at all?”

“I was going to visit a friend,” Harry remembers what he’s actually supposed to say, placing his hands between his thighs so Daniels won't see how sweaty he is.

“A friend?” Daniels arches one of his brows, not believing him at all. _That’s a good thing, right?_

“Yeah, from work,” He says the first thing that pops in his mind. “She’s just had a baby.”

“Really?” Daniels nods his head slowly, clearly still not believing a word Harry is saying. “Tell me her name, then.”

“Regina,” Once again, he says the first thing that pops into his head. He’s about to explode. “Phalange. Regina Phalange.”

James kicks his heel under the table and Daniels blinks at him blankly, probably already done with his shit. Harry can’t believe he’s just said that.

“Does Regina live in that house, Mr. Styles?”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. _She doesn’t live anywhere because she isn’t real_. “She lives two blocks down.”

“Why were you in a house that wasn’t your friend’s?”

“I heard a thud followed by someone screaming. When I looked to the house, the door was opened.”

“And you decided to go inside.”

“Yeah, because maybe this person needed help.” Harry shrugs as if he’s got nothing to worry about.

“Only there wasn’t anyone there to help, was there?”

Harry blinks up at him, suddenly out of words to say. He wants to ask James if this is going according to plan, because it seems like it is, right? Except he doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say. He nudges his knee against James as if to alert he doesn’t know what else to do.

James, being the good friend and lawyer that he is, clears his throat so the focus is now in him.

“What are you insinuating, Mr. Daniels? That my client is a liar?” James asks with a serious tone of voice, as if it’s absurd that Officer Daniels is catching Harry on his lie.

“There wasn’t anyone in the house before Mr. Styles got in,” Daniels looks at James with a frown. “Which leads me into believing your client is lying.”

“How do you even know there wasn’t anyone?” Harry asks without even thinking twice, earning a kick on the ankle. He hisses lowly.

“So you’re saying there wasn’t anyone?” Daniels presses and Harry is so annoyed.

“I’m not saying that, I’m just ask—”

“We confirmed with the neighbors. Can you believe they told us there hasn’t been anyone in the house for a while?”

Harry swallows dry, biting his lip as he thinks of how to go from there. “I’ve gotta tell them, James.” He says eventually, causing James to turn his head to him so fast it must hurt his brain a little.

“What?” James whispers, and Harry doesn’t know if he actually doesn’t notice what Harry is trying to do or if he’s just playing along.

“Tell us what?” Daniels asks.

“The truth,” Harry sighs, a deep frown on his face. “I just — I don’t wanna lie about this. Maybe it’s better if I just get it over with.”

“Harry —”

“I got a note,” He says it louder than he expected to. “A few days ago, I was in a bar close to my place and I got a note.”

“A note?” Daniels repeats, frowning.

“It was kinda crowded and the person was too fast. A man, I’m pretty sure,” Harry is speaking so calmly and sure of himself that he can’t believe he’s actually capable of acting. “There is no Regina Phalange. That’s from Friends.”

“Don’t tell me,” Daniels snorts a humorless laugh as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“It was just a note,” Harry places his hands on the table, lacing his fingers. “They slid it to me while I was having my third drink. There wasn’t really time to see him properly.”

“What did the note say?”

“That Louis would be in that house, on that day. At that exact time,” Harry looks up at Daniels with a tired frown. “I know it was stupid of me, and I should’ve known better, but you must understand the situation I’ve been put, right? I miss him. I just wanna find him.”

Officer Daniels keeps looking at him with this strange look on his face until he seems to finally give in, sighing deeply. “Why didn’t you just tell us that, Mr. Styles?”

“Because it’s stupid,” Harry shrugs. “I was stupid and I thought it’d make everything worse.”

Daniels shakes his head in disbelief, sitting down in the chair next to Officer Sanders. “I know you didn’t have anything to do with all the breaking in the house, and I understand the situation you’ve been put. I know you’re desperate to find Mr. Tomlinson, but you must understand the consequences of your actions.”

“I do,” Harry nods. “I do now. It’s just — I thought that I would _finally_ see him. I thought that maybe he’d sent that man to give me the note.”

“I understand,” Daniels nods with a sigh. “You’ll have to describe the guy for us, Mr. Styles. I know you couldn’t see too much of him, but try your best, please.”

“Right,” Harry looks at James for a brief moment. James nods at him. Harry looks back at Daniels and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m pretty sure he has a mustache.” Daniels blinks at him, waiting for more. Harry is afraid he’ll notice what he’s doing. “A dark black mustache. That’s the first thing I could see, I guess.”

“Okay,” Daniels nods as he looks down at Sanders, who’s currently writing down what Harry is saying.

“He’s tall. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes, though, but I know his hair red. Not natural, but dyed. I could make that out as he walked away. I tried following him but the place was too packed.”

“What else?”

“He was wearing black clothes. And his hair was long,” Harry swallows dry. “That’s everything I can say, Officer.”

“Nothing else?”

“That’s what I’ve noticed about him. I’m sorry,” Harry runs his hands over his face. _He’s good at this._

“No need to apologize, Mr. Styles,” Daniels smiles tensely at him. “Thank you for sharing the truth. You’re free to go.”

“Thank you, officers. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

Before Sanders and Daniels can say anything else, James is pulling Harry out of the room and, once they’re far away enough from the interrogation room, James places his hands on Harry’s shoulders and grins at him. Harry thinks is a smile that silently tells him James is proud, but he’s not sure.

Since they’re still in the Precinct, standing a few feet away from the elevator and way too close to Louis’ desk, Kristen doesn’t take long to find them.

“How was it?” She asks once she stops next to Harry, wrapping lightly one of her hands around Harry’s wrist, as if to comfort him.

“Good, I think,” He says with a nod, avoiding from speaking too much so he won’t end up telling her things he shouldn’t. “I’m free to go, so.” He shrugs.

James smiles at him once again, his hands now in his pants pockets. “He did great,” he says. “Didn’t need my help with anything.”

“It was just the truth,” Harry smiles tightly, running one of his hands through his hair. “So it was okay.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Kristen raises her brows at him, clearly expecting his answer to be a definite yes.

“Not now, please,” He tells her, _and not ever_ , he thinks to himself. “I just really need to go home.”

“Of course,” She nods understandingly. “Give me a call if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks, Kris,” He smiles weakly at her, grateful for her always being so kind to him. “I’ll talk to you later.”

As James and Harry make their way to the elevator, its doors open to reveal Jake with a cup of — probably, as far as Harry can remember what Jake likes to drink — coffee.

Jake’s eyes meet his with a glint of surprise, his face morphing into a frown a second later. “Harry, hi. Is everything okay?”

It takes a beat or two for Harry to answer, giving that he’s digesting Jake’s actual lack of interest as he makes his question. It sounds blank, and the frown in his face doesn’t look like he’s worried or curious at all.

“I’m fine,” Harry answers, blinking at him. “Just had to...you know. With everything.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jake seems to remember the actual reason as to why Harry is there. “Did everything work out?” He asks, still sounding off.

“Yeah, it did. I’m heading home now,” he says. “This is my lawyer, James.”

“And friend,” James interferes, offering his hand for Jake to shake.

Jake looks at him, then, his every move seeming a bit too tense. Harry frowns at him for a brief moment.

“Nice to meet you,” Jake finally smiles, accepting James’ hand. “I think I’ve heard about you once or twice.”

“Detective Reed,” The three of them turn around to look at Captain Webber standing by his office door with an angry look in his face. “My office now.”

Jake turns to look at Harry and James, shrugging as if to silently let them know that he has no idea what that is about. “See you around, Harry. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Um. Thank you, Jake.”

“Harry,” Captain Webber says. “Always a pleasure to see you. Everything good?”

“Yes, Captain. Thank you,” Harry smiles weakly at him. Captain Webber nods at him in response and turns to step back into his office, Jake following him behind.

“Right,” James looks at him. “That was kind of awkward.”

“I know,” Harry frowns, still looking at Captain Webber’s office door, which is now closed. “It was.”

“Let’s just get out of here.”

Harry looks at James and sighs deeply. “Please.”

 

***

 

“You know Harry,” He’s sitting on a high stool with his arms placed on the counter in Niall’s bar when Sarah appears next to him with a patronizing tone of voice. He looks at her blankly and, honest to God, _so fucking tired_. “It’d be great if you let me know you’re fine, from time to time.”

“I can’t believe you called her, Niall,” He turns his head to look at Niall on the other side of the counter, mixing a colorful drink the guy three stools from Harry has just ordered. “We’re not even friends. You don’t get to call _my_ friends on me.”

He’s not drunk enough to not know what he’s saying, he’s just tipsy enough that he doesn’t really care about the words coming out of his mouth. He’s on his fourth beer and he doesn’t want to stop there — he’s pretty sure Sarah won’t let him keep going, though, which sucks. He didn’t even want her there. Well, of course, he went all the way to Niall’s bar which is way closer to Sarah’s place than his, but _still_. It’s a nice bar and he just wants some peace.

It hasn’t even been two hours since James dropped him there. He wants to stay more, and the place is just now getting a little bit more crowded. Thursday is a nice day to drink.

“I just thought you could use a little company, man,” Niall says after he puts the drink in front of the man. He makes his way until he’s standing across from Harry. “I happen to know she’s your best friend.”

“Well, you’re company enough, Niall,” Harry huffs, annoyed at the way Sarah keeps staring at him. He’s still to say anything to her.

“I thought we weren’t friends?”

“And, really, Sarah?” He finally looks at her, ignoring what Niall’s just said. “You’re sharing secrets with Niall-the-Irish now?”

“The fact that we’re best friends isn’t a secret, Harry,” Sarah rolls her eyes at him, taking the bottle of beer from his hands. He frowns at her, but doesn’t protest — he’s just too tired to do so.

“That’s not my point,” He says after staring at her with an annoyed look on his face for a moment. He takes a deep breath. “I just want another drink. Niall!” He slams his hands on the counter. Niall, who’s still standing in front of him, apparently, smiles at him amusedly, but also kind of sad. “Get me another drink, will you? Your girlfriend stole mine.”

“She’s somebody else’s girlfriend,” Niall chuckles and Harry widens his eyes at him.

“What!”

“It’s getting crowded,” Niall says instead. “I gotta help my employers.”

Harry doesn’t get to say anything else because Niall is then turning around to do as he’s said. That beautiful man — whose name Harry actually remembers, _Zayn_ — is politely trying to understand everyone’s order, just as that beautiful woman — whose name Harry also actually remembers, Jesy — is doing the same. Harry didn’t know Niall’s bar was this popular. He turns his head to look around and is surprised to find the bar actually pretty crowded. He’s also surprised to find that the previously empty stools next to him are now taken.

“Wow,” He murmurs to himself, remembering Sarah is still next to him. He turns to look at her with raised brows, just to remember what Niall said just seconds ago. “You’ve got a boyfriend?!”

“No, Harry,” She sighs and takes a sip of Harry’s stolen bottle of beer.

“Does Mitch know about this? He’s gonna be devastated.”

“How much did you drink, Harry?” She completely ignores what he’s said, which is so damn rude, in his opinion.

“Three. Four. Beers. I think.” He shrugs. “I just want another one, alright? And maybe a tequila shot or something.”

“I think you’re done for the evening, Haz,” Sarah chuckles and pulls the bottle away when he reaches to grab it back. He’s so tired.

“It’s not even eight o’clock, Sarah! I don’t wanna go home to an empty apartment, alright? Just let me fucking be,” He huffs, annoyed. “I thought you were my drinking buddy? Just get me another fucking drink.”

She blinks at him once, twice, three times before she finally gives in with a deep sigh. “Fine,” she says. “But we’re only sticking to beer, alright?” He grins at her. “ _And_ ,” She just keeps going. _Fuck, what does a man have to do to get a drink around here?_ “And you’re crashing at my place tonight.”

“Jesus Christ, Sarah, how many times do I have to tell you I won’t have sex with you?” He rolls his eyes but ends up laughing anyway when he sees her covering her mouth to muffle her loud laughs.

“Niall, get us two more beers, please,” She shouts over to Niall, who looks at her from where he’s talking to other clients and smiles with a nod.

It isn’t Niall who brings them the beer, though. It’s the beautiful man. The god alike man. It’s Zayn, and he’s so much prettier up close. Harry can’t stop looking at him.

“Sarah, look at him,” He says dumbly. Sarah laughs quietly when Zayn raises his brows at Harry with an amused smile.

“Nice to meet you, mate,” Zayn speaks for the first time. Well, not for the first time ever, but for the first time ever directly at Harry. And it’s nice. He’s got a nice voice.

“Thank you,” Harry, once again, sounds like the dumbest person alive. “For the beer. It’s a good beer.”

“I know, right?” Zayn chuckles. Harry is yet to stop looking at him.

“Are you a model or something?” Harry asks after taking a long sip of the beer. Sarah laughs again and Harry watches as Zayn’s face morphs into a big smile.

“I wish, man,” He gets as a response. “One day, who knows.”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. For a brief moment, he thinks that Louis would have flirted this man until Harry was annoyed enough, just so they could all end up good friends after all, and it hurts like hell to have that thought at that moment, because then reality hits him hard and he’s right back at where he was. “Thanks again, for the beer.” He says eventually, finally looking away from Zayn to look at the beer in his hands. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Sarah looking at him with worried eyes.

Zayn only nods in response and walks away. Harry wants to tell him to come back so he can apologize, but it’s not that big of a deal. They don’t even know each other.

“Cheers?” Sarah’s voice gets him away from his thoughts. He looks at her blankly, as if silently asking her why the hell he would be cheering now. She seems to read him right away. “I don’t know, okay? Just...cheers, please?”

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes with a huff and clinks his bottle with hers. “I’m sorry I’m being an ass.”

“It’s okay,” She nudges his arm with her elbow. “I know this is all too much for you. You know I’m here though, right? For everything you need.”

“Thanks,” He smiles a little bit wider this time, earning a big grin from her back. “Can we order some fries?”

“Hell yeah,” She smiles. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick, okay? You can order it now if you want.”

Harry nods in response and watches as she makes her way through the crowd. He’s taking a long sip of his beer when he feels someone bumping into him and dropping something on the floor. He frowns when the person doesn’t stop to apologize nor to pick whatever it is that was dropped. Harry rolls his eyes in annoyance and looks down to find out it is actually a piece of paper; he sighs deeply and, for an unknown reason, stands up from his stool to grab the stupid paper from the floor. _Stupid people with stupid and rude manners_ , he thinks to himself when he’s back to sitting on his stool with the paper in his hand. It looks like a kind of note or something — those kinds that he would exchange with his elementary school friends in their Math classes. He turns the paper around to see if there’s anything and feels his heart skip a beat.

It would have been funny if he stopped to think about it for a moment — a few hours ago he was in an interrogation room lying to the police about how he got a note from a stranger saying that Louis was going to be in that stupid house. Life can get pretty cruel sometimes.

 _Alley behind the bar. 5 minutes_ , it says and Harry knows he shouldn’t be up to his feet as fast as lightning. He knows he shouldn’t make his way through the crowd headed to the front door of the bar the way he does — like he’s in a hurry and there’s no time left for him to waste. He shouldn’t not think twice before he’s storming to the said alley to meet someone who could be probably waiting to kill him or something. Harry knows. He knows he shouldn’t think it’s Louis there, waiting for him and ready to tell him that everything is fine. Harry knows he shouldn’t hope. Who is he if not someone who hopes, though? Where would he be right now? He knows he’s in a bad state of mind or something like that — he’s pretty sure his friends and everyone else who knows of his situation think he’s in a bad _shape_ —, but who is he if someone who isn’t hopeful?

It doesn’t take him long to reach the alley, and he knows he should be frightened or even worried, but he can’t help but let hope drowns all the other bad feelings — he doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. He knows he’s acting carelessly, though. He knows he should be in the bar ordering fries for Sarah and himself. Harry knows this isn’t safe, but there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do to see Louis.

It’s a dark alley, it’s the first thing he notices, though it doesn’t surprise him, really. Every damn alley is supposed to be dark, right? He fists his hand, squeezing the paper tight as if to ground him somehow, and takes five shaky breaths before he hears steps coming behind him. He doesn’t turn around until he can’t hear anything but someone breathing right there, close enough for him to be terrified.

The funny thing — and also the thing that should worry him the most — is that he isn’t terrified at all. It’s probably a feeling that tells him that everything is alright. It’s probably this feeling that told him to go to the alley without even thinking twice. It’s probably this feeling that will get him into so much more trouble than he’s been already.

As soon as he turns around, he’s relieved to know he was right to hope all along. Hope is what get people to places, even though there might be bumps on the way from time to time. And, fuck, he’s so glad he’s been hopeful. He’s so fucking glad, because the second he turns around, he’s met with those blue eyes that keep him holding on; those blue eyes that, even in the dim alley, with only the few old light poles on the streets around the alley and moonlight to lighten the place, can shine brighter than anything.

Harry can feel his heart beating fast and hard against his chest, feeling like it could explode at any minute. He wants to cry, but then he wants to smile so big his cheeks will hurt for days, and then he wants to scream at Louis as he did all those days ago when he showed up out of nowhere in their apartment. Suddenly all the alcohol seems to leave his system.

“You’re mad, you know,” Louis is the first one to speak, and his voice sounds like music to Harry’s ears. “What if I were someone trying to kill you?”

Harry doesn’t say anything — what could he possibly have to say, anyway? He does the only thing he’s been craving and takes the one step separating them and jumps into Louis’ arms, hugging him so tight he’s sure it leaves Louis’ breathless.

“I wanna kill you right now,” Harry whispers against Louis’ neck, not thinking of letting him go any time soon.

“Did you at least think twice before coming here?” Louis asks in a whisper, ignoring Harry’s words. His arms are wrapped safely around Harry’s waste, and that’s all Harry ever wants — to be safe with him.

“Deep down I knew it was you,” Harry tells him. “I knew.”

“Still,” Louis insists, squeezing his love handles before pulling him away by a few inches. “It’s not safe for you to do stuff like this without thinking twice.”

“You were the one to leave the note,” Harry frowns at him, however leaving his hands placed on Louis’ shoulders, as if afraid he could run away at any time now. “Did you do it so you could lecture me on how reckless I am?”

Louis sighs and shakes his head before grabbing Harry’s wrists and pulling him to a darker corner of the alley. He rests against the wall and pulls Harry close to him enough that he’s got one leg between Harry’s.

“I’m not,” He says while running his knuckles over Harry’s cheeks. “Here to lecture you.”

“Why, then?” Harry asks with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of Louis’ skin against his. “Isn’t it dangerous for you to be here?”

“It is.”

“Tell me why, then. Is there something wrong?” Harry opens his eyes and wraps his fingers around Louis’ wrist, pulling it down to his waist. “Why are you _here_ , specifically? Are you still following me?” He frowns.

“I wanted to know how the interrogation went,” Louis admits, eyes never leaving Harry’s. “Wanted to know if you’re okay.”

“The interrogation went fine, giving all the lying,” Harry blinks. “And no, I’m not okay, Louis.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t answer me,” Louis bites his lips at Harry’s words. “Are you still following me? How do you even know there was an interrogation? How did you know I was here?”

“I’m keeping track of you,” Louis says. “I told you this before. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“And I don’t want anything happening to _you_ ,” Harry frowns deeper, placing his hands on both sides of Louis’ neck. “You call me reckless, but what about you?”

“I’m being careful,” Louis tells him. “You aren’t.”

“Where are you staying?” Harry asks, deciding not to acknowledge Louis calling him careless once again. “Is it safe?”

“It’s in New York,” He gets as an answer and rolls his eyes. “What?”

“Of course it’s here,” He huffs. “How else would you be able to keep following me around?”

“I don’t —” Louis sighs. “I don’t follow you around. I just —” He places his forehead against Harry’s shoulder, tired. “It’s fine, okay? I’m fine.”

“Lou,” Harry whispers, just as tired.

“Hm?”

“I wanna help you,” He says. “I wanna work with you so we can be out of this misery.”

Louis raises his head at that, looking right into Harry’s eyes. He seems to think for a while before setting his mind on something. “No,” he says. “No way.”

Harry rolls his eyes and takes a step back away from him, running his hands through his hair before placing them on his waist.

“You’re being unreasonable,” He argues. “You can’t — ugh. Louis, just let me help you, okay? Even if you say no, I’ll still try to do it anyway. We might as well do it together.”

“You ended up being arrested!” Louis hisses. Harry rolls his eyes again. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Louis, I’m fucking miserable without you. I’m going nuts, alright? Let me fucking help you find out who’s behind all of this so you can come back home. I want you to come back home, Louis. I need you to be home.”

“Harry —”

“No. Listen to me, okay?” Harry points a finger at him with watery eyes. “You can’t keep doing this — you can’t follow me around or whatever it is that you do to know where I am and what the fuck is happening. You can’t keep showing up unannounced. I need to know what is happening to you too, Louis. I need to know where you are and if you’re okay. I wanna help you. I wanna put whoever it is who’s doing this behind bars and I want you to come back to me. Please. Just... _please_.”

“Harry, I don’t —”

“Want me to get hurt, I know. You’ve told me that already. But, Louis, I’m a damn good journalist. I can find stuff out and I can work hard on this. I’ve been doing so. And you’re a terrific detective. Together, we can be great. Just, please.”

Louis sighs deeply before nodding his head, _finally_ , in agreement. “How would you say we do this, then?” He asks with a tired voice.

Harry smiles weakly at him and takes the step back into Louis’ space, placing his hands on his cheeks. “First, you give me a way to contact you when I need to.” He says.

“I don’t have a phone,” Louis tells him as a matter of fact. “Not anymore.”

“Get one,” Harry pecks his lips. “You’ll find a way.”

“What else?” Louis smiles against Harry’s lips.

“You give me all the names that are involved in this mess. Even the ones you think you trust.”

“Are you sure about this?” Louis asks as he wraps his arms around Harry’s waist one more time.

“Yes,” Harry pecks his lips once more. “Now tell me where you’ve been hiding.”

“I can’t.”

“Louis,” Harry pulls his head back to look into Louis’ eyes. “Tell me.”

“I can’t, Harry.”

“Fine,” Harry huffs and takes a few steps back. “Get a fucking phone and text me once you do.”

“Haz, please, I —”

“You can’t, right. I heard you the first time.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis looks at him with sorrowful eyes.

“I gotta go back to Sarah, she must be worried,” he says. “I’m crashing at her place tonight, in case you didn’t know that already.”

Louis sighs. “I didn’t, Harry,” He whispers. “I love you, okay?”

Harry stops for a second, glaring at Louis before walking back to him to kiss him like he should’ve had the first second they laid eyes onto each other. They kiss as if they don’t have anything else to worry about besides tasting each other; they kiss as if the world isn’t turning anymore and they are the only people left in the whole universe. They kiss as if they’re running out of time — and it pains Harry to think that they actually are. It pains him to pull away and rest his forehead against Louis’ while thinking that he never wants this moment to end. It pains him to open his eyes and look right into Louis’ blue ones.

“I love you, too,” He says and it _pains_ him. “Please, just find a way to get a phone and text me without any of these psychos finding out, okay?”

“I will,” Louis nods. “I promise.”

It pains Harry to walk away, but what other choice does he have other than doing it and believe Louis will do the right thing?

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look! chapter 10 is ready for you all!!! It's a short one, but I thought I could write something cute for you, after all the drama Harry and Louis have been going through, you know? So, here it is! Louis is still his very worried self, but allows Harry to kiss his worries away. Also, if it's been a while since you've read chapter 8, I recommend you reading the end one more time so you'll remember why Louis is acting the way he is in this chapter! 
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Lots of love xx

**I NEED YOU MORE THAN WORDS CAN SAY**

 

_**Louis, 3 months ago** _

 

Louis arrives home with a racing beating heart and not feeling sorry at all for snapping at the Uber driver for driving so fucking slow.

_ Fiancé got home safe _ , the text had said and Louis can't fucking _breathe_. Who the fuck _does_ that to people? 

He opens the door to the apartment to find it’s unlocked and his heart aches. It actually hurts when he steps into their house and look around to find the living room empty, with the TV on. He feels his heart skip a beat when he walks to the kitchen to find it empty as well, with the lights on and a kettle on the stove. Harry never leaves things like that — he hates leaving the lights and TV on when there isn’t anyone in the room. It’s a waste of energy, he usually says with a stern look on his face because Louis is the one to always forget to turn it all off.

Louis swallows dry, feeling his eyes sting with unleashed tears. “Harry?” He calls into the apartment, his voice breaking at the end.

Nobody answers, though. Harry doesn’t answer and Louis doesn’t know what to do. He’s afraid of walking further into their apartment and find something that will break him.

“Harry?” He calls again with a trembling voice.

He decides to stop being such a weak person and walks further into their place, going straight to their bedroom only to find it just as empty as the kitchen and living room.

“Harry!” He all but shouts now, his heart beating so fast he actually has trouble breathing.

Then he hears quick steps as if someone is running, and then there’s Harry — wide-eyed Harry at their bedroom door, looking at him as if he’s just seen a ghost.

“What?” He has the audacity to ask, his right hand now on his chest as he tries to even his breathing. “Are you okay?”

Louis frowns at him, suddenly feeling his blood burn in his veins. “What the fuck, Harry?” he demands with a shaky voice, looking at Harry from head to toes to make sure everything is alright, that there’s nothing wrong with him.

“What is it?”

“Didn’t you hear me calling you?” Louis asks, exasperated. "And what's up with the door unlocked? How many times do I have to tell you to —"

"Louis," Harry interrupts him with a frown, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was doing laundry."

Louis blinks at him as he takes a deep breath, allowing himself to take another look at Harry, from head to toe — he should've realized as soon as Harry stopped by the door. He's wearing his Laundry Duty clothes, which is extremely ridiculous that he even has an outfit for that. Louis has always made fun of him because of that. Every time he decides to do the laundry, he goes to their room and put his ridiculous Britney Spears T-shirt and his even more ridiculous tiny flamingo shorts. Every damn time.

Louis suddenly feels like crying, because there Harry is, being his ridiculously amazing self, safe and sound and _himself_. Louis loves him so much it hurts to think that he could have gotten home to a much different sight of the love his life, not being his bright self, who is always the source of light in Louis' life. The thought of Louis not having that, not having _him_ anymore is unbearable, which is why he marches his way to Harry and wraps his arms tightly around Harry's waist, squeezing him against his own body.

"Don't leave the fucking door unlocked, Harry," He whispers against Harry's chest, doing his best not to cry, even though his eyes are still burning with those damn tears. "Please, don't make me say it again and again, _every time_. Just, please, don't leave the door unlocked."

"Lou," Harry calls him sweetly with his lips pressed against Louis' temple. "I forgot, really. Our neighbor, Mrs. Greenbald, came here to leave us some muffins and I forgot to lock it once she was gone."

"Don't forget it next time," Louis tells him, his voice still trembling. "You didn't answer when I called three fucking times. I thought something had happened."

"Why are you so worried all the time?" Harry pulls him away by his shoulders, though still close enough so they can feel each other's breath. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"It's just —" Louis sighs with his eyes closed for a moment, before looking right into Harry's, deeply. "There's too much crime going on, Harry. You should know better."

Harry stares at him blankly, knowing very well this isn't really why Louis looks so worried all the time. Louis knows that Harry knows him too well to not figure out when he's telling a lie, but what else is he supposed to say? He would rather not say anything and do his best to keep his sweet, bright boy safe than to tell him the truth and have him do something that will get him hurt.

"Right," Harry says eventually, nodding in understanding, even though Louis knows Harry doesn't understand why he won't just tell him what is going on, once and for all. Louis can live with that. "I'm gonna go finish doing the laundry. You just...do whatever."

Harry tries to pull away from Louis' arms, but Louis doesn't let him. He keeps his arms wrapped around Harry's waist and Harry gives him a look that says _what now?_ Louis pecks his lips sweetly in silent response.

"Don't be upset," He says right before pressing his lips against Harry's again. "I worry too much because I love you too much."

"It's annoying sometimes, you know," Harry tells him in a low voice, letting Louis' kiss his lips as much as he pleases.

Louis smiles at his words, nodding along with it as if he knew that already. He did, really. He knows he annoys the shit out of Harry. "You love me," he says instead, because he knows _that_ overcomes every other thing. "Don't be upset."

"I am upset," Harry closes his eyes when Louis bites his bottom lip lightly, dragging his teeth along it. "You won't let me finish doing laundry."

"We can do laundry alright," Louis says in a suggestive tone, making Harry grin at him.

"You hate doing laundry," Harry states, wrapping his arms around Louis' shoulders and pulling him closer.

"Not when it's with you," He whispers against Harry's lips. "Not when it's not _really_ laundry."

"We watch too much Friends," Harry chuckles, whining softly when Louis drags his hands down his back to his asscheeks and squeezes them. "This shouldn't be a thing."

"I'm glad it is," Louis says. "Now, please, do me a favor and take your clothes off."

Harry laughs quietly but does as he's told — he's quick to step away from Louis and make his way to their bed, leaving his T-shirt and shorts on the floor before climbing up on the bed. Since there wasn't too much clothing to begin with, there Harry is, naked and proud, smiling at Louis that smile that makes him weak to his knees, every time.

"Are you just gonna stand there and look?" Harry asks him teasingly with an arch of his brows.

Louis bites his lips to contain a grin and walks to the bed after taking his jacket and coat off, dropping them on the floor. "I wouldn't mind just looking at you, you know," he says when he climbs up the bed, hovering over Harry as he places his hands on both sides of Harry's head and his ass perfectly sat right on Harry's crotch. "I'd rather do something else, though."

"Would you, now?" Harry chuckles, running his hands over Louis' biceps until they reach Louis' neck, wrapping them around it lightly. "Care to tell me about it?"

"Can I just show you instead?" Louis whispers with his lips hovering Harry's, almost touching.

Harry nods slowly in response, his eyes never leaving Louis' until he has no choice but to close them because Louis finally presses their lips together. Louis can never get tired of this feeling —  it always feels like their first kiss, as cliché as it sounds. It does, really. Whenever he has Harry's lips against his own, whether it's a sweet kiss or a desperate one, it always feels like the first time, and Louis doesn't ever get tired of it. He's addicted to the way Harry's hands gripping Louis' hair on the back of his head makes his heart race; he's addicted to the way Harry bites his bottom lip right before he draws an invisible trail with soft kisses all the way down to his jaw just so he can leave a love bite right there, like he's doing right now, making Louis roll his eyes back in pleasure.

Harry moans softly against Louis' neck when Louis rolls his hips, searching for the friction both of them desperately want.

"Take your pants off, for fuck's sake," Harry tells him when Louis does it again, frustrated.

Louis smiles amusedly and presses a hard kiss on Harry's lips before raising his upper body so it's easier for him to take his jeans off without having to stand up from the bed. Harry helps him once it's on his knees, pulling them down quickly so Louis can go back to their previous position, in which he can easily press his hips down against Harry's.

"What do you want?" Louis asks after biting Harry's bottom lip slowly, as in to tease him.

"Do I really have to say it out loud?" Harry blinks up at him, eyes burning with desire into his own. Louis nods with a smirk, feeling like his heart might explode right out of his chest at any moment. "Does it really turn you on _that much_ to hear me say I want you to fuck me?"

Louis knows Harry only asks that because he knows that's exactly what happens — those words coming out of those pretty thick pink lips combined with Harry's deep low voice are the death of Louis, every damn time. Harry is a tease, asking that stupid question like that, knowing very well that Louis' cock will twitch under his boxer every time he says that.

"Tease," Louis states right before he ducks down to kiss Harry deeply, their tongues meeting with a wet sound.

"Should've taken this stupid boxer down with your pants already," Harry complains when they pull apart to breathe. He slides his hands down Louis' back and underneath the boxer, squeezing Louis' asscheeks tightly. "Want you naked all the time."

Louis lowers himself to suck a love bite on Harry's chest, right above his left nipple before sucking on it sweetly at first and roughly at the end. Harry's low moans make him feel like he's catching on fire, and he can't help but roll his hips once again, causing Harry to squeeze his asscheeks tighter.

"You'll kill me one of these days," Harry tells him right before he changes their positions in a quick move, now being the one to have his ass sat on Louis' painfully hard cock.

"I'll go with you," Louis tells him back, breathlessly. Harry smiles down at him before placing a hard and tongueless kiss on his lips. "Wanna ride me?"

Harry nods slowly, looking at him with hooded and desireful eyes. "Gonna finger myself first," he says like it's something that won't make Louis' skin burn. "Then I'm gonna ride you."

"Fuck," Louis breathes out a moan, placing his hands on Harry's love handles and making him move his hips in a circle, creating the perfect friction between his crotch and Harry's ass.

Harry seems to have had enough of Louis' last piece of clothing, since he raises himself from Louis' crotch and swings his leg to the side, kneeling right next to him so he can slide Louis' boxer down his legs. Louis keeps his eyes on him all the time, raising his hips from the bed when Harry gives him a look, silently asking him to cooperate.

Louis is a bit disappointed when Harry doesn't go back to his previous position sitting right on his cock, but the disappointment is soon replaced with eagerness when Harry starts placing soft kisses down his chest and stomach until he's right on the trail of hair that leads to his cock.

"I've done this today, you know," Harry looks up at him, smirking. His smiling lips hovering Louis' cock is probably one of the most sinful sights.

"I know," Louis nods while he tangles his fingers on Harry's messy curly hair. "I also know you don't mind doing it again a single bit."

"Damn right I don't," Harry chuckles and then he's swallowing Louis all the way down, easy like that, as if it isn't something that can make Louis feel like he's walking on fire due to how fucking hot he feels all over.

Louis arches his back when Harry sucks on the head of his cock before swallowing him down again, moaning as he does so, and then even louder when Louis pulls on his hair. Louis keeps on pulling it then, just so he can get that same reaction every time Harry swirls his tongue around the head of his cock and swallows him down again and again until Louis is panting and squirming on the bed.

"You gotta stop if you want me to last," Louis warns him. Harry takes his mouth away with a loud and wet pop, then, making Louis moan at the sight of this mischievous man smirking at him as he climbs up on Louis, sitting his ass right back on Louis' hard cock, as if it wouldn't make him even harder.

"I do want you to last," Harry says when he reaches to the bedside table top drawer to get the lube, not wasting any second as he opens the bottle to wet his fingers with it. "Don't want you coming anywhere that's not in me."

"Fuck," Louis throws his head back against the pillow with his eyes shut, chuckling breathlessly at Harry's words. "You're a menace."

Harry doesn't say anything to that, though, because he's then too busy to speak, giving that he's switching his position so he can have his back and ass to Louis, who has the most perfect view right then. Harry looks at him over his shoulder with a mischievous smirk as he guides two of his wet fingers to his asshole, delivering Louis a show.

"Holy fuck, Harry," Louis grunts and places his hands on Harry's asscheeks, squeezing while he pulls them apart so Harry can have better access and he can see more of that.

"Like watching me?" Harry asks in a gasp when he seems to reach his spot after a deep thrust of his fingers.

"You know I do," Louis whispers in a low moan. "I love watching you. Everything you do."

"Yeah?" Harry keeps looking at him, now with hooded eyes that seem to burn with lust. "Think I can get one more?"

Louis nods slowly, looking at where Harry's two fingers deep into his own ass. "I'll do it for you, though," he says with a raspy voice and Harry seems to like the idea, giving that he lets out the loudest moan so far.

"Please," Harry pleads whiningly, rolling his hips on his fingers.

Louis gives him what he wants, then, because how could he not? He wants to give Harry everything and anything. He wants to do all the things to him and with him.

Looking right into Harry's eyes, Louis slides his middle finger into Harry's pretty hole along with the two other fingers that are already there. He doesn't move it for a moment, which makes it impossible for Harry to move his own as well, and it seems to frustrate him as much as it also seems to turn him on even more.

" _Lou_ ," He whines as he moves his hips down so the fingers can go in deeper. Louis moans lowly when the movement creates friction on his cock that desperately needs attention.

"Yeah, love?" Louis moves his finger around, then, and Harry moves his own along with it, scissoring himself open.

"Can we just —" He leans his head back, taking a deep breath. Louis runs his free hand up Harry's back until he reaches the back of his neck, pulling his hair once again. "Please."

"Yes, baby. We can," Louis murmurs in response, not really needing Harry to say anything else.

He slowly takes his finger out of Harry, guiding him to do the same with his own and reaches for the bottle of lube that Harry left next to his arm on the bed. "Do you want it like this?" He asks once he's squeezed enough of lube in his hand, running it up and down his cock.

"Yeah," Harry answers him lowly, raising his hips enough so Louis can align himself to Harry's hole, running the tip of his cock up to Harry's crack and down to his rim. "Fuck, yes. Please."

"Anything you want, baby," Louis says before guiding himself inside Harry, painfully slow.

"Fuck, Lou. Lou, Lou.  _ Louis _ ," Harry chants his name like a prayer, his voice sounding like heaven and the warmth of him feeling like paradise around Louis.

"That's it, baby," Louis places his hands on Harry's love handles, helping him up and pulling him down strong enough that their skin makes a slapping sound. And it's all so fucking hot, Louis can barely breathe. "Love how you take me."

Harry moans at that, sinking his feet onto the bed so he can bend his knees and open his legs wider after placing his hands behind him on either side of Louis' hips. At that, Harry starts a rhythm in which Louis doesn't know how he'll be able to last much longer —  Harry is fast on his moves, going up until Louis' cock is almost all the way out, just so he can sink back down and roll his hips in a way that makes Louis roll his eyes back in extreme pleasure.

Louis wants more, though —  he's too far away, even though Harry is right there, bouncing on his cock in a way that makes them both crazy. So he raises his upper body until he's got his torso pressed against Harry's strong and wide back. He doesn't waste any more time not kissing Harry's shoulders and leaving love bites all over his upper back.

"Fuck, Harry," Louis moans when Harry takes longer on the hips rolling, taking Louis even deeper. "You're perfect."

"Love you," Harry tells him in a husky moan, leaning his head to the side so Louis can have better access to his neck.

Louis knows Harry won't last much longer, either, giving that he can't stop gasping with each time Louis is in deep, thrusting his prostate again and again. Since he can feel he's about to explode, Louis guides his right hand to Harry's right nipple and pinch it lightly before running his hand down to Harry's cock, not waiting for any second before he's wrapping his hand around it, going up and down at Harry's rhythm until he's got him panting with quiet little moans as he spills all over his stomach and Louis' hands. He doesn't stop bouncing, though, he just keeps going and going and going until Louis is coming inside him, having his second orgasm of the day.

"Oh, my god," Harry says with a breathless chuckle after he lazily throws himself next to Louis on the bed, facing the ceiling. "I love our sex life so much."

Louis laughs out loud then, still trying to catch his breath from all their previous exercising. "We _do_ have an amazing sex life, don't we?" he turns his head to the side so he can look at Harry, who is now staring right back at him with that gorgeous smile of his, which always gives Louis this funny feeling, like he could conquer the world.

"I thought you were staying longer at work. You said you'd be late," Harry says after a beat of silence, his eyes watching Louis carefully.

"It's almost ten p.m, Harry."

"I'm just saying," Harry turns his whole body to face Louis, placing his arm on Louis' stomach. "I had arrived home about twenty minutes before you did."

Louis blinks at him, knowing where this is going. "So?" He drags the word a bit, causing Harry frown at him for a brief moment before he's back to just staring at him, watching and observing.

"Did something happen?"

Louis sighs deeply and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, Harry has a worried look on his face and his eyes are sad, and Louis hates that. He hates making Harry feel like this, and he hates lying. However, he can't risk telling him everything, he just can't.

"I guess your visit just made me realize how badly I wanted to be home," He says instead, earning a tired and weak smile from Harry.

"I hope you tell me what's really happening one day," Harry tells him, making Louis' heart beat so fast and loud Louis is afraid he will actually hear it. "I hope you realize that I also worry too much because I, too, love you too much."

"Haz," Louis whispers, his throat burning due to the huge lump in it. He doesn't allow any single tear to drop, though. "There's nothing to tell. I know you worry just as much as I do, but I promise there's nothing to tell. I'm fine. _We're_ fine."

Harry just looks at him for a moment, without saying anything, until he takes a deep breath and nods, finally giving up on trying to get anything from Louis that won't be him telling the same thing over and over. It hurts Louis to do it — lie like this. They don't lie to each other because there has never been a reason to lie about anything. There has never been a reason to hide anything. But how can Louis explain to him what is really happening? How can he just tell him that there's a traitor in his Precinct and that someone is following them around? He can't possibly tell Harry that, he just can't. He loves him too much to put such a burden on his shoulders. Louis will deal with this himself. He'll do anything and everything to protect this green-eyed man, who brings him so much happiness and life. Louis will do everything.

"What do you think we take a few days off so we can go away?" Louis suggests out of a sudden, when there's been just too much silence.

Harry blinks at him, surprised. "Go away?" He asks with a small smile. There he is.

"Yeah," Louis nods, smiling back at him as he turns his body to face Harry and cuddle him closer, tangling their legs together. "It can even be a weekend away, which is better giving your work schedule."

"You work on weekends sometimes," Harry states, raising his brows at him.

"Well, sometimes," Louis runs his hand up Harry's arm and then back down until he's got their fingers laced with each other. "I only work on Saturdays, and it's not every Saturday."

"Right," Harry nods and brings their entwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of Louis' hand. "Where would you say we go, then?"

"We could go to Indian Lake," Louis tells him with a hopeful tone of voice, smiling softly at him.

"Oh," Harry grins. "To your grandparents' lake house?" He asks and Louis nods in response. "It's been a while since we've been there. We never have time anymore."

"That's true."

"Do you think they'll lend us the house?"

"They always do," Louis shrugs and leans in so he can peck Harry's lips softly. "What do you say? We can leave on Friday, next week, and be back on Sunday evening."

"Are we driving?" Harry arches one of his brows at him, chuckling quietly.

"Of course we are driving."

"I can't believe you're finally taking the car out of the building's garage."

"Harry," Louis huffs, faking annoyance. "You know there's no reason to drive unless we are actually leaving New York or there's an emergency."

"Yeah, right," Harry scoffs playfully. "Admit you're a terrible driver."

"Oi!" Louis pulls his hand away from Harry's just so he can pinch his bum. "I don't see you driving around either!"

Harry laughs loudly, shutting his eyes closed. "Fine," he says eventually, still giggling. "Let's drive to Indian Lake, even though you won't even get in the water."

"I always get in the water."

"Liar," Harry pinches Louis' bum back, making Louis squirm with a giggle. "You don't get in the water not even when it's summer and the day is burning hot."

" _You're_ burning hot," Louis wiggles his brows and Harry rolls his eyes fondly. "Weekend away, then?"

"Weekend away," Harry agrees, grinning.

Suddenly every worry is forgotten, and everything Louis can think and care about is Harry, right there, smiling at him the brightest of all smiles.

"It's a date," Louis settles, then, ending their conversation by pressing their lips together and rolling his body on top of Harry's so he's back on to sitting on Harry's crotch one more time.

"Yay," Harry cheers against Louis' lips, still grinning. "I love when you take me on dates in the middle of nowhere."

"Shut up," Louis giggles, softly placing his hands on Harry's jaw. "Just shut up."

Harry can make him forget anything. 

 


End file.
